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THE   POINT   OF   HONOR 

A  MILITARY  TALE 


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"  You  "will  ffiht  7)0  more  duels  noro  " 

[See  page  Kifi] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

A     MILITARY    TALE 

BY 

JOSEPH    CONRAD 

AUTHOK  OF   LOKD  JIM,    YOUTH,    ETC. 


ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 
DAN    SAYRE    GROESBECK 


NEW    YORK 

THE    McCLURE    COMPANY 

MCMVIII 


Copyright,  1908,  by  The  McClure  Company 


Copyright,  1907,  1908,  by  Joseph  Conrad 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


You  will  fight  no  more  duels  now  "  Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAQ£ 

Bowing  before  a   sylph-like  form  reclining  on 

a  couch  "  14 

The    angry    clash    of    arms    filled    that    prim 

garden  "  28 

You  take  the  nearest  brute.  Colonel  D'Hubert  "     88 


THE   POINT   OF   HONOR 

A  MILITARY  TALE 


NAPOLEON  THE  FIRST,  whose  ca- 
reer had  the  quahty  of  a  duel  against 
the  whole  of  Europe,  disliked  duelling 
between  the  officers  of  his  army.  The  great  mili- 
tary emperor  was  not  a  swashbuckler,  and  had 
little  respect  for  tradition. 

Nevertheless,  a  story  of  duelling  which  became 
a  legend  in  the  army  i*uns  through  the  epic  of 
imperial  wars.  To  the  surprise  and  admiration  of 
their  fellows,  two  officers,  like  insane  artists  try- 
ing to  gild  refined  gold  or  paint  the  lily,  pursued 
their  private  contest  through  the  years  of  uni- 
versal carnage.  They  were  officers  of  cavalry, 
and  their  connection  with  the  high-spirited  but 
fanciful  animal  which  carries  men  into  battle 
seems  particularly  appropriate.  It  would  be  dif- 
ficult to  imagine  for  heroes  of  this  legend  two 
officers   of   infantry    of   the   line,    for   example, 

[3] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
whose  fantasy  is  tamed  by  much  walking  exer- 
cise and  whose  valour  necessarily  must  be  of  a 
more  plodding  kind.  As  to  artillery,  or  engineers 
whose  heads  are  kept  cool  on  a  diet  of  mathemat- 
ics, it  is  simply  unthinkable. 

The  names  of  the  two  officers  were  Feraud 
and  D'Hubert,  and  they  were  both  lieutenants 
in  a  regiment  of  hussars,  but  not  in  the  same  regi- 
ment. 

Feraud  was  doing  regimental  work,  but  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  at- 
tached to  the  person  of  the  general  commanding 
the  division,  as  officier  d'ordonnance.  It  was  in 
Strasbourg,  and  in  this  agreeable  and  important 
garrison,  they  were  enjoying  greatly  a  short  in- 
terval of  peace.  They  were  enjoying  it,  though 
both  intensely  warlike,  because  it  was  a  sword- 
sharpening,  firelock-cleaning  peace  dear  to  a 
military  heart  and  undamaging  to  military  pres- 
tige inasmuch  that  no  one  beUeved  in  its  sincerity 
or  duration. 

Under  those  historical  circumstances  so  favour- 
able to  the  proper  appreciation  of  military  leisure 

[4] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  could  have  been  seen  one 
fine  afternoon  making  his  way  along  the  street  of 
a  cheerful  suburb  towards  Lieutenant  Feraud's 
quarters,  which  were  in  a  private  house  with  a 
garden  at  the  back,  belonging  to  an  old  maiden 
lady. 

His  knock  at  the  door  was  answered  instantly 
by  a  young  maid  in  Alsatian  costume.  Her  fresh 
complexion  and  her  long  eyelashes,  which  she 
lowered  modestly  at  the  sight  of  the  tall  officer, 
caused  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  who  was  accessible 
to  esthetic  impressions,  to  relax  the  cold,  on-duty 
expression  of  his  face.  At  the  same  time  he 
observed  that  the  girl  had  over  her  arm  a  pair  of 
hussar's  breeches,  red  with  a  blue  stripe. 

"  Lieutenant  Feraud  at  home?  "  he  inquired 
benevolently. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir.  He  went  out  at  six  this  morn- 
ing." 

And  the  little  maid  tried  to  close  the  door,  but 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  opposing  this  move  with 
gentle  firnmess,  stepped  into  the  anteroom  jing- 
ling his  spurs. 

[5] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  Come,  my  dear.  You  don't  mean  to  say  he 
has  not  been  home  since  six  o'clock  this  morn- 
mg? 

Saying  these  words,  Lieutenant  D'Hubert 
opened  without  ceremony  the  door  of  a  room  so 
comfortable  and  neatly  ordered  that  only  from 
internal  evidence  in  the  shape  of  boots,  uniforms 
and  military  accoutrements,  did  he  acquire  the 
conviction  that  it  was  Lieutenant  Feraud's  room. 
And  he  saw  also  that  Lieutenant  Feraud  was  not 
at  home.  The  tinithful  maid  had  followed  him 
and  looked  up  inquisitively. 

"  H'm,"  said  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  greatly 
disappointed,  for  he  had  already  visited  all  the 
haunts  where  a  lieutenant  of  hussars  could  be 
found  of  a  fine  afternoon.  "  And  do  you  happen 
to  know,  my  dear,  why  he  went  out  at  six  this 
morning? " 

"  No,"  she  answered  readily.  "  He  came  home 
late  at  night  and  snored.  I  heard  him  when  I  got 
up  at  five.  Then  he  dressed  himself  in  his  oldest 
uniform  and  went  out.  Service,  I  suppose." 

"  Service?  Not  a  bit  of  it!"  cried  Lieutenant 

[6] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

D'Hubert.  "  Learn,  my  child,  that  he  went  out 
so  early  to  fight  a  duel  with  a  civilian." 

She  heard  the  news  without  a  quiver  of  her 
dark  eyelashes.  It  was  very  obvious  that  the 
actions  of  Lieutenant  Feraud  were  generally 
above  criticism.  She  only  looked  up  for  a  moment 
in  mute  surprise,  and  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  con- 
cluded from  this  absence  of  emotion  that  she  must 
have  seen  Lieutenant  Feraud  since  the  morning. 
He  looked  around  the  room. 

"  Come,"  he  insisted,  with  confidential  famili- 
arity. "  He's  perhaps  somewhere  in  the  house 
now? " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  him,"  continued 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  in  a  tone  of  anxious  con- 
viction. "  But  he  has  been  home  this  morn- 
mg? 

This  time  the  pretty  maid  nodded  slightly. 

"  He  has!  "  cried  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  "  And 
went  out  again?  What  for?  Couldn't  he  keep 
quietly  indoors?  AVhat  a  lunatic!  ^ly  dear 
child.  .  .  ." 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert's  natural  kindness  of 
disposition  and  strong  sense  of  comradeship 
helped  his  powers  of  observation,  which  gener- 
ally were  not  remarkable.  He  changed  his  tone  to 
a  most  insinuating  softness;  and  gazing  at  the 
hussar's  breeches  hanging  over  the  arm  of  the 
girl,  he  appealed  to  the  interest  she  took  in  Lieu- 
tenant Feraud's  comfort  and  happiness.  He  was 
pressing  and  persuasive.  He  used  his  eyes,  which 
were  large  and  fine,  with  excellent  effect.  His 
anxiety  to  get  hold  at  once  of  Lieutenant  Fe- 
raud,  for  Lieutenant  Feraud's  own  good,  seemed 
so  genuine  that  at  last  it  overcame  the  girl's 
discretion.  Unluckily  she  had  not  much  to  tell. 
Lieutenant  Feraud  had  returned  home  shortly 
before  ten;  had  walked  straight  into  his  room 
and  had  thrown  himself  on  his  bed  to  resume  his 
slumbers.  She  had  heard  him  snore  rather  louder 
than  before  far  into  the  afternoon.  Then  he  got 
up,  put  on  his  best  uniform  and  went  out.  That 
was  all  she  knew. 

She  raised  her  candid  eyes  up  to  Lieutenant 
D 'Hubert,  who  stared  at  her  incredulously. 

[8] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  It's  incredible.  Gone  parading  the  town  in 
his  best  uniform!  My  dear  child,  don't  you  know 
that  he  ran  that  civilian  through  this  morning? 
Clean  through  as  you  spit  a  hare." 

She  accepted  this  gruesome  intelligence  with- 
out any  signs  of  distress.  But  she  pressed  her  lips 
together  thoughtfully. 

"  He  isn't  parading  the  town,"  she  remarked, 
in  a  low  tone.  *'  Far  from  it." 

*'  The  civilian's  family  is  making  an  awful 
row,"  continued  Lieutenant  D 'Hubert,  pursuing 
his  train  of  thought.  "  And  the  general  is  very 
angry.  It's  one  of  the  best  families  in  the  town. 
Feraud  ought  to  have  kept  close  at  least.  .  .  ." 

"  What  will  the  general  do  to  him  ?  "  inquired 
the  girl  anxiously. 

*'  He  won't  have  his  head  cut  off,  to  be  sure," 
answered  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  "  But  his  con- 
duct is  positivelj'^  indecent.  He's  making  no  end 
of  trouble  for  himself  bj^  this  sort  of  bravado." 

"  But  he  isn't  parading  the  town,"  the  maid 
murmured  again. 

"  Why,  yes!  Now  I  think  of  it.  I  haven't  seen 

[91 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
him  any^vhere.  What  on  earth  has  he  done  with 
liimself  ? " 

"  He's  gone  to  pay  a  call,"  suggested  the  maid, 
after  a  moment  of  silence. 

Lieutenant  D 'Hubert  was  surprised. 

"  A  call!  Do  you  mean  a  call  on  a  lady?  The 
cheek  of  the  man.  But  how  do  you  know  this?  " 

Without  concealing  her  woman's  scorn  for  the 
denseness  of  the  masculine  mind,  the  pretty  maid 
reminded  him  that  Lieutenant  Feraud  had  ar- 
rayed himself  in  his  best  uniform  before  going 
out.  He  had  also  put  on  his  newest  dolman,  she 
added  in  a  tone  as  if  this  conversation  were  get- 
ting on  her  nerves  and  turned  away  brusquely. 
Lieutenant  D 'Hubert,  without  questioning  the 
accuracy  of  the  implied  deduction,  did  not  see 
that  it  advanced  him  much  on  his  official  quest. 
For  his  quest  after  Lieutenant  Feraud  had  an 
official  character.  He  did  not  know  any  of  the 
women  this  fellow  who  had  run  a  man  through 
in  the  morning  was  likely  to  call  on  in  the  after- 
noon. The  two  officers  knew  each  other  but  shght- 
ly.  He  bit  his  gloved  finger  in  perplexity. 

[10] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
"  Call!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Call  on  the  devil." 
The  girl,  with  her  back  to  him  and  folding  the 
hussar's  breeches  on  a  chair,  said  with  a  vexed 
little  laugh: 

"  Oh,  no!  On  Madame  de  I.ionne." 
Lieutenant  D'Hubei-t  whistled  softly.  Madame 
de  Lionne,  the  wife  of  a  high  official,  had  a 
well-known  salon  and  some  pretensions  to  sensi- 
bility and  elegance.  The  husband  was  a  civilian 
and  old,  but  the  society  of  the  salon  was  young 
and  military  for  the  greater  part.  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert  had  whistled,  not  because  the  idea  of 
pursuing  Lieutenant  Feraud  into  that  very  salon 
was  in  the  least  distasteful  to  him,  but  because 
having  but  lately  arrived  in  Strasbourg  he  had 
not  the  time  as  yet  to  get  an  introduction  to 
Madame  de  Lionne.  And  what  was  that  swash- 
buckler Feraud  doing  there?  He  did  not  seem  the 
sort  of  man  who  .  .  . 

"Are  you  certain  of  what  you  say?"  asked 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert. 

The  girl  was  perfectly  certain.  Without  turn- 
ing round  to  look  at  him  she  explained  that  the 

[11] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
coachman  of  their  next-door  neighbours  knew 
the  maitre-d'liotel  of  ^ladame  de  Lionne.  In  this 
way  she  got  her  information.  And  she  was  per- 
fectly certain.  In  giving  this  assurance  she 
sighed.  Lieutenant  Feraud  called  there  nearly 
every  afternoon. 

"Ah,  bah!"  exclaimed  D'Hubert  ironically. 
His  opinion  of  Madame  de  Lionne  went  down 
several  degrees.  Lieutenant  Feraud  did  not  seem 
to  him  specially  worthy  of  attention  on  the  part 
of  a  woman  with  a  reputation  for  sensibility  and 
elegance.  But  there  was  no  saying.  At  bottom 
they  were  all  alike — very  practical  rather  than 
idealistic.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  however,  did  not 
allow  his  mind  to  dwell  on  these  considerations. 

"  By  thunder!  "  he  reflected  aloud.  "  The  gen- 
eral goes  there  sometimes.  If  he  happens  to  find 
the  fellow  making  eyes  at  the  lady  there  will  be 
the  devil  to  pay.  Our  general  is  not  a  very  ac- 
commodating person,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Go  quickly  then.  Don't  stand  here  now  I've 
told  you  where  he  is,"  cried  the  girl,  colouring  to 
the  eyes. 

[12] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  Thanks,  my  dear.  1  don't  know  what  I  would 
have  done  without  you." 

After  manifesting"  his  gratitude  in  an  aggres- 
sive way  which  at  first  was  repulsed  violently  and 
then  submitted  to  with  a  sudden  and  still  more 
repellent  indifference,  Lieutenant  D 'Hubert  took 
his  departure. 

He  clanked  and  jingled  along  the  streets  with 
a  martial  swagger.  To  run  a  comrade  to  earth  in 
a  drawing-room  where  he  was  not  known  did  not 
trouble  him  in  the  least.  A  uniform  is  a  social 
passport.  His  position  as  officier  d'ordonnance 
of  the  general  added  to  his  assurance.  JMoreover, 
now  he  knew  where  to  find  Lieutenant  Feraud, 
he  had  no  option.  It  was  a  service  matter. 

IVIadame  de  Lionne's  house  had  an  excellent 
appearance.  A  man  in  livery  opening  the  door  of 
a  large  drawing-room  with  a  waxed  floor,  shout- 
ed his  name  and  stood  aside  to  let  him  pass. 
It  was  a  reception  day.  The  ladies  wearing 
hats  surcharged  with  a  profusion  of  feathers, 
sheathed  in  clinging  white  gowns  from  their 
armpits  to  the  tips  of  their  low  satin  shoes,  looked 

[13] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

sylphlike  and  cool  in  a  great  display  of  bare 
necks  and  arms.  The  men  who  talked  with  them, 
on  the  contrary,  were  arrayed  heavily  in  ample, 
coloured  garments  with  stiff  collars  up  to  their 
ears  and  thick  sashes  round  their  waists.  Lieuten- 
ant D 'Hubert  made  his  unabashed  way  across  the 
room,  and  bowing  low  before  a  sylphlike  form 
reclining  on  a  couch,  offered  his  apologies  for 
this  intrusion,  which  nothing  could  excuse  but  the 
extreme  urgency  of  the  service  order  he  had  to 
communicate  to  his  comrade  Feraud.  He  pro- 
posed to  himself  to  come  presently  in  a  more 
regular  manner  and  beg  forgiveness  for  inter- 
rupting this  interesting  conversation.  .  .  . 

A  bare  arm  was  extended  to  him  with  gracious 
condescension  even  before  he  had  finished  sj^eak- 
ing.  He  pressed  the  hand  respectfully  to  his  lips 
and  made  the  mental  remark  that  it  was  bony. 
Madame  de  Lionne  was  a  blonde  with  too  fine 
a  skin  and  a  long  face. 

"  C'est  fa! "  she  said,  with  an  ethereal  smile, 
disclosing  a  set  of  large  teeth.  "  Come  this  even- 
ing to  plead  for  your  forgiveness." 

[14] 


'       1 


^^.^i^^Ae^C-^ 


"  Boxcing  before  a  sylpli-Wke  form  reclining  on  a  couch 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  I  will  not  fail,  madame." 

Meantime  Lieutenant  Feraiid,  splendid  in  his 
new  dolman  and  the  extremely  polished  boots  of 
his  calling,  sat  on  a  chair  within  a  foot  of  the 
couch  and,  one  hand  propped  on  his  thigh,  with 
the  other  twirled  his  moustache  to  a  point  with- 
out uttering  a  sound.  At  a  significant  glance  from 
D'Hubert  he  rose  without  alacrity  and  followed 
him  into  the  recess  of  a  window. 

"  What  is  it  you  want  with  me?  "  he  asked  in 
a  tone  of  annoyance,  which  astonished  not  a  little 
the  other.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  could  not  imag- 
ine that  in  the  innocence  of  his  heart  and  simplic- 
ity of  his  conscience  Lieutenant  Feraud  took  a 
view  of  his  duel  in  which  neither  remorse  nor  3^et 
a  rational  apprehension  of  consequences  had  any 
place.  Though  Lieutenant  Feraud  had  no  clear 
recollection  how  the  quarrel  had  originated  (it 
was  begun  in  an  establishment  where  beer  and 
wine  are  drunk  late  at  night),  he  had  not  the 
slightest  doubt  of  being  himself  the  outraged 
party.  He  had  secured  two  experienced  friends 
for  his  seconds.  Ever}i:hing  had  been  done  ac- 

[15] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
cording  to  the  rules  governing  that  sort  of 
adventure.  And  a  duel  is  obviously  fought  for  the 
purpose  of  someone  being  at  least  hurt  if  not 
killed  outright.  The  civilian  got  hurt.  That  also 
was  in  order.  Lieutenant  Feraud  was  perfectly 
tranquil.  But  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  mistook  this 
simple  attitude  for  affectation  and  spoke  with 
some  heat. 

"  I  am  directed  by  the  general  to  give  you  the 
order  to  go  at  once  to  your  quarters  and  remain 
there  under  close  arrest." 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  Lieutenant  Feraud  to 
be  astonished. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  telling  me  there?  "  he 
murmured  faintly,  and  fell  into  such  profound 
wonder  that  he  could  only  follow  mechanically 
the  motions  of  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  The  two 
officers — one  tall,  with  an  interesting  face  and  a 
moustache  the  colour  of  ripe  corn,  the  other  short 
and  sturdy,  with  a  hooked  nose  and  a  thick  crop 
of  black,  curly  hair — approached  the  mistress  of 
the  house  to  take  their  leave.  Madame  de  Lionne, 
a  woman   of   eclectic   taste,   smiled   upon   these 

[161 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
armed  young  men  with  impartial  sensibility  and 
an  equal  share  of  interest.  Madame  de  Lionne 
took  her  delight  in  the  infinite  variety  of  tlie  hu- 
man species.  All  the  eyes  in  the  drawing-room 
followed  the  departing  officers,  one  strutting,  the 
other  striding,  with  curiosity.  When  the  door  had 
closed  after  them  one  or  two  men  who  had  al- 
ready heard  of  the  duel  imparted  the  information 
to  the  sylphlike  ladies,  who  received  it  with  little 
shrieks  of  humane  concern. 

Meantime  the  two  hussars  walked  side  hj  side. 
Lieutenant  Feraud  trying  to  fathom  the  hidden 
reason  of  things  which  in  this  instance  eluded 
the  grasp  of  his  intellect;  Lieutenant  D'Hubert 
feeling  bored  by  the  part  he  had  to  play ;  because 
the  general's  instructions  were  that  he  should  see 
personally  that  Lieutenant  Feraud  carried  out 
his  orders  to  the  letter  and  at  once. 

"  The  chief  seems  to  know  this  animal,"  he 
thought,  eyeing  his  companion,  whose  round 
face,  the  round  eyes  and  even  the  twisted-up  jet 
black  little  moustache  seemed  animated  by  his 
mental  exasperation  before  the   incomprehensi- 

[17] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

ble.  And  aloud  he  observed  rather  reproachfully, 
*'  The  general  is  in  a  devilish  fury  with  you." 

Lieutenant  Feraud  stopped  short  on  the  edge 
of  the  pavement  and  cried  in  the  accents  of  un- 
mistakable sincerity:  "  What  on  earth  for?  "  The 
innocence  of  the  fiery  Gascon  soul  was  depicted 
in  the  manner  in  which  he  seized  his  head  in  both 
his  hands  as  if  to  prevent  it  bursting  with 
perplexity. 

"  For  the  duel,"  said  Lieutenant  D'Hubert 
curtly.  He  was  annoyed  greatly  by  this  sort  of 
perverse  fooUng. 

"The  duel!  The  .  .  ." 

Lieutenant  Feraud  passed  from  one  paroxysm 
of  astonishment  into  another.  He  dropped  his 
hands  and  walked  on  slowly  trying  to  reconcile 
this  information  with  the  state  of  his  own  feel- 
ings. It  was  impossible.  He  burst  out  indignant- 

"  Was  I  to  let  that  sauerkraut-eating  civilian 
wipe  his  boots  on  the  uniform  of  the  Seventh 
Hussars?  " 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  could  not  be  altogether 

[18] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

unsympathetic  toward  that  sentiment.  This  httle 
fellow  is  a  lunatic,  he  thought  to  himself,  but 
there  is  something  in  what  he  says. 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  know  how  far  you  were 
justified,"  he  said  soothingly.  "  And  the  general 
himself  may  not  be  exactly  informed.  A  lot  of 
people  have  been  deafening  him  with  their  lamen- 
tations." 

"Ah,  he  is  not  exactly  informed,"  mumbled 
Lieutenant  Feraud,  walking  faster  and  faster  as 
his  choler  at  the  injustice  of  his  fate  began  to 
rise.  "  He  is  not  exactly.  .  .  .  And  he  orders  me 
under  close  arrest  with  God  knows  what  after- 
ward." 

"  Don't  excite  yourself  like  this,"  remonstrat- 
ed the  other.  "  That  young  man's  people  are  very 
influential,  you  know,  and  it  looks  bad  enough  on 
the  face  of  it.  The  general  had  to  take  notice  of 
their  complaint  at  once.  I  don't  think  he  means  to 
be  over-severe  with  you.  It  is  best  for  you  to  be 
kept  out  of  sight  for  a  while." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  the  general," 
muttered  Lieutenant  Feraud  through  his  teeth. 

[19] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
"And   perhaps  you  would   say  I   ought  to  be 
grateful  to  you  too  for  the  trouble  you  have 
taken  to  hunt  me  up  in  the  drawing-room  of  a 
lady  who  .  .  ." 

"  Frankly,"  interrupted  Lieutenant  D'Hu- 
bert,  with  an  innocent  laugh,  "  I  think  you  ought 
to  be.  I  had  no  end  of  trouble  to  find  out  where 
you  were.  It  wasn't  exactly  the  place  for  you  to 
disport  yourself  in  under  the  circumstances.  If 
the  general  had  caught  you  there  making  eyes  at 
the  goddess  of  the  temple.  .  .  .  Oh,  my  word! 
.  .  .  He  hates  to  be  bothered  with  complaints 
against  his  officers,  you  know.  And  it  looked  un- 
commonly like  sheer  bravado." 

The  two  officers  had  arrived  now  at  the  street 
door  of  Lieutenant  Feraud's  lodgings.  The  lat- 
ter turned  toward  his  companion.  "  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert,"  he  said,  "I  have  something  to  say  to 
you  which  can't  be  said  very  well  in  the  street. 
You  can't  refuse  to  come  in." 

The  pretty  maid  had  opened  the  door.  Lieu- 
tenant Feraud  brushed  past  her  brusquely  and 
she  raised  her  scared,  questioning  eyes  to  Lieu- 

[20] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
tenant   D'Hubert,    who   could   do   nothing   but 
shrug  his  shoulders  slightly  as  he  followed  with 
marked  reluctance. 

In  his  room  Lieutenant  Feraud  unhooked  the 
clasp,  flung  his  new  dolman  on  the  bed,  and 
folding  his  arms  across  his  chest,  turned  to  the 
other  hussar. 

"  Do  you  imagine  I  am  a  man  to  submit  tame- 
ly to  injustice?"  he  inquired  in  a  boisterous 
voice. 

"  Oh,  do  be  reasonable,"  remonstrated  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert. 

"  I  am  reasonable.  I  am  perfectly  reasonable," 
retorted  the  other,  ominously  lowering  his  voice. 
"  I  can't  call  the  general  to  account  for  his  be- 
haviour, but  you  are  going  to  answer  to  me  for 
yours." 

"  I  can't  listen  to  this  nonsense,"  murmured 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  making  a  slightly  con- 
temptuous grimace. 

"  You  call  that  nonsense.  It  seems  to  me 
perfectly  clear.  Unless  you  don't  understand 
French." 

[21] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

*'  What  on  earth  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean,"  screamed  suddenly  Lieutenant  Fe- 
raud,  "  to  cut  off  your  ears  to  teach  you  not  to 
disturb  me,  orders  or  no  orders,  when  I  am  talk- 
ing to  a  lady." 

A  profomid  silence  followed  this  mad  declara- 
tion— and  through  the  open  window  Lieutenant 
D 'Hubert  heard  the  little  birds  singing  sanely 
in  the  garden.  He  said  coldly: 

"  Why!  If  you  take  that  tone,  of  course  I  will 
hold  myself  at  your  disposal  whenever  you  are  at 
liberty  to  attend  to  this  affair.  But  I  don't  think 
you  will  cut  off  my  ears." 

"  I  am  going  to  attend  to  it  at  once,"  declared 
Lieutenant  Feraud,  with  extreme  truculence. 
"  If  you  are  thinking  of  displaying  your  airs  and 
graces  to-night  in  Madame  de  Lionne's  salon 
you  are  very  much  mistaken." 

"  Really,"  said  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,who  was 
beginning  to  feel  irritated,  "  you  are  an  imprac- 
ticable sort  of  fellow.  The  general's  orders  to  me 
were  to  put  you  under  arrest,  not  to  carve  you 
into  small  pieces.  Good-morning."  Turning  his 

[22] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

back  on  the  little  Gascon  who,  always  sober  in 
his  potations,  was  as  though  bom  intoxicated, 
with  the  sunshine  of  his  wine-ripening-  country, 
the  northman,  who  could  drink  hard  on  occa- 
sion, but  was  born  sober  under  the  watery  skies  of 
Picardy,  made  calmly  for  the  door.  Hearing, 
however,  the  unmistakable  sound,  behind  his 
back,  of  a  sword  drawn  from  the  scabbard,  he 
had  no  option  but  to  stop. 

"  Devil  take  this  mad  Southerner,"  he  thought, 
spinning  round  and  surv^eying  with  composure 
the  warlike  posture  of  Lieutenant  Feraud  with 
the  unsheathed  sword  in  his  hand. 

"  At  once.  At  once,"  stuttered  Feraud,  beside 
himself. 

"  You  had  my  answer,"  said  the  other,  keeping 
his  temper  very  well. 

At  first  he  had  been  only  vexed  and  somewhat 
amused.  But  now  his  face  got  clouded.  Pie  was 
asking  himself  seriously  how  he  could  manage  to 
get  aw^ay.  Obviously  it  was  impossible  to  run 
from  a  man  with  a  sword,  and  as  to  fighting 
him,  it  seemed  completely  out  of  the  question. 

[23] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
He  waited  awhile,  then  said  exactly  what  was  in 
his  heart : 

"  Drop  this ;  I  won't  fight  you  now.  I  won't  be 
made  ridiculous." 

"  All,  you  won't!  "  hissed  the  Gascon.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  prefer  to  be  made  infamous.  Do  you 
hear  what  I  say?  .  .  .  Infamous!  Infamous! 
Infamous !  "  he  shrieked,  raising  and  falling  on 
his  toes  and  getting  very  red  in  the  face.  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert,  on  the  contrary,  became  very 
pale  at  the  sound  of  the  unsavoury  word,  then 
flushed  pink  to  the  roots  of  his  fair  hair. 

"  But  you  can't  go  out  to  fight;  you  are  under 
arrest,  you  lunatic,"  he  objected,  with  angry 
scorn. 

"  There's  the  garden.  It's  big  enough  to  lay 
out  your  long  carcass  in,"  spluttered  out  Lieuten- 
ant Feraud  with  such  ardour  that  somehow  the 
anger  of  the  cooler  man  subsided. 

"  This  is  perfectly  absurd,"  he  said,  glad 
enough  to  think  he  had  found  a  way  out  of  it  for 
the  moment.  "  We  will  never  get  any  of  our  com- 
rades to  serve  as  seconds.  It's  preposterous." 

[24] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
"  Seconds!  Damn  the  seconds!  We  don't  want 
any  seconds.  Don't  you  worry  about  any  seconds. 
I  will  send  word  to  j^our  friends  to  come  and 
bury  you  when  I  am  done.  This  is  no  time  for 
ceremonies.  And  if  you  want  any  witnesses,  I'll 
send  word  to  the  old  girl  to  put  her  head  out  of  a 
window  at  the  back.  Stay!  There's  the  gar- 
dener. He'll  do.  He's  as  deaf  as  a  post,  but  he 
has  two  eyes  in  his  head.  Come  along.  I  will 
teach  you,  my  staff  officer,  that  the  carrjnng 
about  of  a  general's  orders  is  not  always  child's 
play." 

While  thus  discoursing  he  had  unbuckled  his 
empty  scabbard.  He  sent  it  flying  under  the  bed, 
and,  lowering  the  point  of  the  sword,  brushed 
past  the  perplexed  Lieutenant  D' Hubert,  cry- 
ing: "  Follow  me."  Directly  he  had  flung  open 
the  door  a  faint  shriek  was  heard,  and  the  pretty 
maid,  who  had  been  listening  at  the  keyhole, 
staggered  backward,  putting  the  backs  of  her 
hands  over  her  eyes.  He  didn't  seem  to  see  her, 
but  as  he  was  crossing  the  anteroom  she  ran  after 
him  and  seized  his  left  arm.  He  shook  her  off  and 

[25] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

then  she  rushed  upon  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  and 
clawed  at  the  sleeve  of  his  uniform. 

"  Wretched  man,"  she  sobbed  despairingly. 
"  Is  this  what  you  wanted  to  find  him  for? " 

"  Let  me  go,"  entreated  Lieutenant  D'Hubert, 
trj'ing  to  disengage  himself  gently.  "  It's  like 
being  in  a  madhouse,"  he  protested  with  exas- 
peration. "  Do  let  me  go,  I  won't  do  him  any 
harm." 

A  fiendish  laugh  from  Lieutenant  Feraud 
commented  that  assurance.  "  Come  along,"  he 
cried  impatiently,  with  a  stamp  of  his  foot. 

And  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  did  follow.  He 
could  do  nothing  else.  But  in  vindication  of  his 
sanity  it  must  be  recorded  that  as  he  passed  out 
of  the  anteroom  the  notion  of  opening  the  street 
door  and  bolting  out  presented  itself  to  this 
brave  youth,  only,  of  course,  to  be  instantly  dis- 
missed :  for  he  felt  sure  that  the  other  would  pur- 
sue him  without  shame  or  compunction.  And  the 
prospect  of  an  officer  of  hussars  being  chased 
along  the  street  by  another  officer  of  hussars 
with  a  naked  sword  could  not  be  for  a  moment 

[26] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

entertained.  Therefore  he  followed  into  the  gar- 
den. Behind  them  the  girl  tottered  out  too.  With 
ashy  lips  and  wild,  scared  eyes,  she  surrendered 
to  a  dreadful  curiosity.  She  had  also  a  vague 
notion  of  rushing,  if  need  be,  between  Lieuten- 
ant Feraud  and  death. 

The  deaf  gardener,  utterly  unconscious  of  ap- 
proaching footsteps,  went  on  watering  his  flow- 
ers till  Lieutenant  Feraud  thumped  him  on  the 
back.  Beholding  suddenly  an  infuriated  man, 
flourishing  a  big  sabre,  the  old  chap,  trembling 
in  all  his  limbs,  dropped  the  watering  pot.  At 
once  Lieutenant  Feraud  kicked  it  away  with 
great  animosity;  then  seizing  the  gardener  by 
the  throat,  backed  him  against  a  tree  and  held 
him  there  shouting  in  his  ear: 

"  Stay  here  and  look  on.  You  understand 
you've  got  to  look  on.  Don't  dare  budge  from  the 
spot." 

Lieutenant  D 'Hubert,  coming  slowly  down 
the  walk,  unclasped  his  dolman  with  undisguised 
reluctance.  Even  then,  with  his  hand  alreadj^  on 
his  sword,  he  hesitated  to  draw,  till  a  roar  "  En 

[27] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
garde,  fichtre!  What  do  you  think  you  came  here 
for?  "  and  the  rush  of  his  adversary  forced  him  to 
put  himself  as  quickly  as  possible  in  a  posture  of 
defence. 

The  angry  clash  of  arms  filled  that  prim  gar- 
den, which  hitherto  had  known  no  more  warlike 
sound  than  the  click  of  clipping  shears ;  and  pres- 
ently the  upper  part  of  an  old  lady's  body  was 
projected  out  of  a  window  upstairs.  She  flung 
her  arms  above  her  white  cap,  and  began  scold- 
ing in  a  thin,  cracked  voice.  The  gardener  re- 
mained glued  to  the  tree  looking  on,  his  toothless 
mouth  open  in  idiotic  astonishment,  and  a  little 
farther  up  the  walk  the  pretty  girl,  as  if  held 
by  a  spell,  ran  to  and  fro  on  a  small  grass  plot, 
wringing  her  hands  and  muttering  crazily.  She 
did  not  rush  between  the  combatants.  The  on- 
slaughts of  Lieutenant  Feraud  were  so  fierce  that 
her  heart  failed  her. 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  his  faculties  concen- 
trated upon  defence,  needed  all  his  skill  and 
science  of  the  svvord  to  stop  the  rushes  of  his 
adversary.  Twice  already  he  had  had  to  break 

[28] 


"  The  angry  clo.sh    of  annfi  piled   that   prim  garden 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
ground.  It  bothered  him  to  feel  his  foothold 
made  insecure  by  the  round  dry  gravel  of  the 
path  rolhng  under  the  hard  soles  of  his  boots. 
This  was  most  unsuitable  ground,  he  thought, 
keeping  a  watchful,  narrowed  gaze  shaded  by 
long  eyelashes  upon  the  fiery  staring  eyeballs 
of  his  thick-set  adversary.  This  absurd  affair 
would  ruin  his  reputation  of  a  sensible,  steady, 
promising  young  officer.  It  would  damage,  at 
any  rate,  his  immediate  prospects  and  lose  him 
the  good  will  of  his  general.  These  worldly  pre- 
occupations were  no  doubt  misplaced  in  view 
of  the  solemnity  of  the  moment.  For  a  duel 
whether  regarded  as  a  ceremony  in  the  cult  of 
honour  or  even  when  regrettably  casual  and  re- 
duced in  its  moral  essence  to  a  distinguished  form 
of  manly  sport,  demands  perfect  singleness  of 
intention,  a  homicidal  austerity  of  mood.  On  the 
other  hand,  this  vivid  concern  for  the  future  in  a 
man  occupied  in  keeping  sudden  death  at  sword's 
length  from  his  breast,  had  not  a  bad  effect,  inas- 
much as  it  began  to  rouse  the  slow  anger  of 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  Some  seventy  seconds  had 

[29] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

elapsed  since  they  had  crossed  steel  and  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert  had  to  break  ground  again  in 
order  to  avoid  impaling  his  reckless  adversary 
hke  a  beetle  for  a  cabinet  of  specimens.  The  re- 
sult was  that,  misapprehending  the  motive,  Lieu- 
tenant Feraud,  giving  vent  to  triumphant  snarls, 
pressed  his  attack  with  renewed  vigour. 

This  enraged  animal,  thought  D'Hubert,  will 
have  me  against  the  wall  directly.  He  imagined 
himself  much  closer  to  the  house  than  he  was; 
and  he  dared  not  turn  his  head,  such  an  act  under 
the  circumstances  being  equivalent  to  deliberate 
suicide.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  keeping 
his  adversary  off  with  his  eyes  much  more  than 
with  his  point.  Lieutenant  Feraud  crouched 
and  bounded  with  a  tigerish,  ferocious  agility — 
enough  to  trouble  the  stoutest  heart.  But  what 
was  more  appalling  than  the  fury  of  a  wild  beast 
accomplishing  in  all  innocence  of  heart  a  natural 
function,  was  the  fixity  of  savage  purpose  man 
alone  is  capable  of  displaying.  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert  in  the  midst  of  his  worldly  preoccu- 
pations perceived  it  at  last.  It  was  an  absurd  and 

[30] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

damaging  affair  to  be  drawn  into.  But  whatever 
silly  intention  the  fellow  had  started  with,  it  was 
clear  that  by  this  time  he  meant  to  kill — nothing 
else.  He  meant  it  with  an  intensity  of  will  utterly 
beyond  the  inferior  faculties  of  a  tiger. 

As  is  the  case  with  constitutionally  brave  men, 
the  full  view  of  the  danger  interested  Lieutenant 
D 'Hubert.  And  directly  he  got  properly  inter- 
ested, the  length  of  his  arm  and  the  coolness  of 
his  head  told  in  his  favour.  It  was  the  turn  of 
Lieutenant  Feraud  to  recoil.  He  did  this  with 
a  blood-curdling  grunt  of  baffled  rage.  He  made 
a  swift  feint  and  then  rushed  straight  forward. 

"Ah!  you  would,  would  you?"  Lieutenant 
D'Huberf  exclaimed  mentally  to  himself.  The 
combat  had  lasted  nearly  two  minutes,  time 
enough  for  any  man  to  get  embittered,  apart 
from  the  merits  of  the  quarrel.  And  all  at. once 
it  was  over.  Trying  to  close  breast  to  breast  under 
his  adversary's  guard,  Lieutenant  Feraud  re- 
ceived a  slash  on  his  shortened  arm.  He  did  not 
feel  it  in  the  least,  but  it  checked  his  rush,  and  his 
feet  slipping  on  the  gravel,  he  fell  backward  with 

[31] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
great  violence.  The  shock  jarred  his  boihng  brain 
into  the  perfect  quietude  of  insensibility.  Simul- 
taneously with  his  fall  the  pretty  servant  girl 
shrieked  piercingly;  but  the  old  maiden  lady  at 
the  window  ceased  her  scolding  and  with  great 
presence  of  mind  began  to  cross  herself. 

In  the  first  moment,  seeing  his  adversary  lying 
perfectly  still,  his  face  to  the  sky  and  his  toes 
turned  up.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  thought  he  had 
killed  him  outright.  The  impression  of  having 
slashed  hard  enough  to  cut  his  man  clean  in  two 
abode  with  him  for  awhile  in  an  exaggerated  im- 
pression of  the  right  good  will  he  had  put  into 
the  blow.  He  went  down  on  his  knees  by  the  side 
of  the  prostrate  body.  Discovering  that  not  even 
the  arm  was  severed,  a  sHght  sense  of  disappoint- 
ment mingled  with  the  feeling  of  relief.  But,  in- 
deed, he  did  not  want  the  death  of  that  sinner. 
The  affair  was  ugly  enough  as  it  stood.  Lieuten- 
ant D'Hubert  addressed  himself  at  once  to  the 
task  of  stopping  the  bleeding.  In  this  task  it  was 
his  fate  to  be  ridiculously  impeded  by  the  pretty 
maid.  The  girl,  filling  the  garden  with  cries  for 

[32] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
help,  flung  herself  upon  his  defenceless  back  and, 
twining  her  fingers  in  his  hair,  tugged  at  his 
head.  Why  she  should  choose  to  hinder  him  at 
this  precise  moment  he  could  not  in  the  least 
understand.  He  did  not  try.  It  was  all  like  a  very 
wicked  and  harassing  dream.  Twice,  to  save  him- 
self from  being  pulled  over,  he  had  to  rise  and 
throw  her  off.  He  did  this  stoically,  without  a 
word,  kneeling  down  again  at  once  to  go  on 
with  his  work.  But  when  the  work  was  done  he 
seized  both  her  arms  and  held  them  down.  Her 
cap  was  half  off,  her  face  was  red,  her  eyes  glared 
with  crazy  boldness.  He  looked  mildly  into  them 
while  she  called  him  a  wretch,  a  traitor  and  a 
murderer  many  times  in  succession.  This  did  not 
annoy  him  so  much  as  the  conviction  that  in  her 
scuffles  she  had  managed  to  scratch  his  face  abun- 
dantly. Ridicule  would  be  added  to  the  scandal 
of  the  story.  He  imagined  it  making  its  way 
through  the  garrison,  through  the  whole  army, 
with  every  possible  distortion  of  motive  and  sen- 
timent and  circumstance,  spreadhig  a  doubt 
upon  the  sanity  of  his  conduct  and  the  distinc- 

[33] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
tion  of  his  taste  even  into  the  very  bosom  of  his 
honoui'able  family.  It  was  all  very  well  for  that 
fellow  Feraud,  who  had  no  connections,  no  fam- 
ily to  speak  of,  and  no  quality  but  courage  which, 
anyhow,  was  a  matter  of  course,  and  possessed 
by  every  single  trooper  in  the  whole  mass  of 
French  cavalry.  Still  holding  the  wrists  of  the 
girl  in  a  strong  grip,  Lieutenant  D'Hubert 
looked  over  his  shoulder.  Lieutenant  Feraud  had 
opened  his  eyes.  He  did  not  move.  Like  a  man 
just  waking  from  a  deep  sleep  he  stared  with  a 
drowsy  expression  at  the  evening  sky. 

Lieutenant  D 'Hubert's  urgent  shouts  to  the 
old  gardener  produced  no  effect — not  so  much  as 
to  make  him  shut  his  toothless  mouth.  Then  he 
remembered  that  the  man  was  stone  deaf.  All 
that  time  the  girl,  attempting  to  free  her  wrists, 
struggled,  not  with  maidenly  coyness  but  like 
a  sort  of  pretty  dumb  fury,  not  even  refraining 
from  kicking  his  shins  now  and  then.  He  con- 
tinued to  hold  her  as  if  in  a  vice,  his  instinct  tell- 
ing him  that  were  he  to  let  her  go  she  would  fly 
at  his  eyes.  But  he  was  greatly  humiliated  by  his 

[34] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
position.  At  last  she  gave  up,  more  exhausted 
than  appeased,   he   feared.   Nevertheless   he   at- 
tempted to  get  out  of  this  wicked  dream  by  way 
of  negotiation. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  said  as  calmly  as  he  could. 
"  Will  you  promise  to  run  for  a  svu'geon  if  I  let 
you  go? " 

He  was  profoundly  afflicted  when,  panting, 
sobbing,  and  choking,  she  made  it  clear  that  she 
would  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  On  the  contrary, 
her  incoherent  intentions  were  to  remain  in  the 
garden  and  figlit  with  her  nails  and  her  teeth 
for  the  protection  of  the  prostrate  man.  This  was 
horrible. 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  cried  in  despair,  "  is  it 
possible  that  you  think  me  capable  of  murdering 
a  wounded  adversary?  Is  it.  .  .  .  Be  quiet,  you 
little  wildcat,  you,"  he  added. 

She  struggled.  A  thick  sleepy  voice  said  be- 
hind him: 

"  What  are  you  up  to  with  that  girl?  " 

Lieutenant  Feraud  had  raised  himself  on  his 
good  arm.  He  was  looking  sleepily  at  his  other 

[35] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
arm,  at  the  mess  of  blood  on  his  uniform,  at  a 
small  red  pool  on  the  ground,  at  his  sabre  lying 
a  foot  away  on  the  path.  Then  he  laid  himself 
down  gently  again  to  think  it  all  out  as  far  as  a 
thundering  headache  would  permit  of  mental 
operations. 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  released  the  girl's  wrists. 
She  flew  away  down  the  path  and  crouched 
wildly  by  the  side  of  the  vanquished  warrior. 
The  shades  of  night  were  falling  on  the  little 
trim  garden  with  this  touching  group  whence 
proceeded  low  murmurs  of  sorrow  and  compas- 
sion with  other  feeble  sounds  of  a  different  char- 
acter as  if  an  imperfectly  awake  invalid  were 
trying  to  swear.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  went 
away,  too  exasperated  to  care  what  would  hap- 
pen. 

He  passed  through  the  silent  house  and  con- 
gratulated himself  upon  the  dusk  concealing  his 
gory  hands  and  scratched  face  from  the  passers- 
by.  But  this  story  could  by  no  means  be  con- 
cealed. He  dreaded  the  discredit  and  ridicule 
above  everything,  and  was  painfully  aware  of 

[S6] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
sneaking  through  the  back  streets  to  his  quar- 
ters. In  one  of  these  quiet  side  streets  the  sounds 
of  a  flute  coming  out  of  the  open  window  of  a 
lighted  upstairs  room  in  a  modest  house  inter- 
rupted his  dismal  reflections.  It  was  being  played 
with  a  deliberate,  persevering  virtuosity,  and 
through  the  fioritures  of  the  tune  one  could  even 
hear  the  thump  of  the  foot  beating  time  on  the 
floor. 

Lieutenant  D 'Hubert  shouted  a  name  which 
was  that  of  an  army  surgeon  whom  he  knew 
fairly  well.  The  sounds  of  the  flute  ceased  and 
the  musician  appeared  at  the  window,  his  in- 
strument still  in  his  hand,  peering  into  the 
street. 

"Who  calls?  You,  D'Hubert!  What  brings 
you  this  way  ?  " 

He  did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  when  he  was 
playing  the  flute.  He  was  a  man  whose  hair  had 
turned  gray  already  in  the  thankless  task  of  ty- 
ing up  wounds  on  battlefields  where  others  reaped 
advancement  and  glory. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  at  once  and  see  Feraud. 

[37] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
You     know     Lieutenant     Feraud?     He     lives 
down  the   second   street.   It's   but   a   step   from 
here." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him?  " 

"  Wounded." 

"  Are  3^ou  sure?  " 

"Sure!"  cried  D'Hubert.  "I  come  from 
there." 

"  That's  amusing,"  said  the  elderly  surgeon. 
Amusing  was  his  favourite  word ;  but  the  expres- 
sion of  his  face  when  he  pronounced  it  never  cor- 
responded. He  was  a  stolid  man.  "  Come  in,"  he 
added.  "  I'll  get  ready  in  a  moment." 

"  Thanks.  I  will.  I  want  to  wash  my  hands  in 
vour  room." 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  found  the  surgeon  oc- 
cupied in  unscrewing  his  flute  and  packing  the 
pieces  methodically  in  a  velvet-lined  case.  He 
turned  his  head. 

"  Water  there — in  the  corner.  Your  hands  do 
want  washing." 

"  I've  stopped  the  bleeding,"  said  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert.   "  But  you  had   better  make  haste. 

[38] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

It's  rather  more  than  ten  minutes  ago,  you 
know." 

The  surgeon  did  not  hurry  his  movements. 

"  What's  the  matter?  Dressing  came  off? 
That's  amusing.  I've  been  busy  in  the  hospital 
all  day,  but  somebody  has  told  me  that  he  hadn't 
a  scratch." 

"  Not  the  same  duel  probably,"  growled 
moodily  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  wiping  his  hands 
on  a  coarse  towel. 

"  Not  the  same.  .  .  .  What?  Another?  It 
would  take  the  very  devil  to  make  me  go  out 
twice  in  one  day."  He  looked  narrowly  at  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert.  "  How  did  you  come  by  that 
scratched  face?  Both  sides  too — and  s^Tnmetri- 
cal.  It's  amusing." 

"  Very,"  snarled  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  "And 
you  will  find  his  slashed  arm  amusing  too.  It 
will  keep  both  of  you  amused  for  quite  a  long 
time." 

The  doctor  was  mystified  and  impressed  by  the 
brusque  bitterness  of  Lieutenant  D'Hubert's 
tone.  They  left  the  house  together,  and  in  the 

[39] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

street  he  was  still  more  mystified  by  his  con- 
duct. 

"  Aren't  you  coming  with  me?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  "  You  can 
find  the  house  by  yourself.  The  front  door  will 
be  open  very  likely." 

"  All  right.    Where's  his  room?  " 

"  Groimd  floor.  But  you  had  better  go  right 
through  and  look  in  the  garden  first." 

This  astonishing  piece  of  information  made 
the  surgeon  go  off  without  further  parley.  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert  regained  his  quarters  nursing 
a  hot  and  uneasy  indignation.  He  dreaded  the 
chaff  of  his  comrades  almost  as  much  as  the 
anger  of  his  superiors.  He  felt  as  though  he  had 
been  entrapped  into  a  damaging  exposure.  The 
truth  was  confoimdedly  grotesque  and  embar- 
rassing to  justify;  putting  aside  the  irregularity 
of  the  combat  itself  which  made  it  come  dan- 
gerously near  a  criminal  offence.  Like  all  men 
without  much  imagination,  which  is  such  a  help 
in  the  processes  of  reflective  thought,  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert  became  frightfully  harassed  by  the 

[40] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
obvious  aspects  of  his  predicament.  He  was  cer- 
tainly glad  that  he  had  not  killed  Lieutenant 
Feraud  outside  all  rules  and  without  the  regular 
witnesses  proper  to  such  a  transaction.  Uncom- 
monly glad.  At  the  same  time  he  felt  as  though 
he  would  have  liked  to  wring  his  neck  for  him 
without  ceremony. 

He  was  still  under  the  sway  of  these  contra- 
dictor}^ sentiments  when  the  surgeon  amateur  of 
the  flute  came  to  see  him.  INIore  than  three  days 
had  elapsed.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  was  no  lon- 
ger ofpcier  d'ordonnance  to  the  general  com- 
manding the  division.  He  had  been  sent  back  to 
his  regiment.  And  he  was  resuming  his  connec- 
tion with  the  soldiers'  military  family,  by  being 
shut  up  in  close  confinement  not  at  his  own  quar- 
ters in  town,  but  in  a  room  in  the  barracks.  Ow- 
ing to  the  gravity  of  the  incident,  he  was  allowed 
to  see  no  one.  He  did  not  know  what  had  hap- 
pened, what  was  being  said  or  what  was  being 
thought.  The  arrival  of  the  surgeon  was  a  most 
unexpected  event  to  the  worried  captive.  The 
amateur  of  the  flute  began  by  explaining  that 

[41] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
he  was  there  only  by  a  special  favour  of  the 
colonel  who  had  thought  fit  to  relax  the  general 
isolation  order  for  this  one  occasion. 

"  I  represented  to  him  that  it  would  be  only 
fair  to  give  j'^ou  authentic  news  of  your  adver- 
sary," he  continued.  "  You'll  be  glad  to  hear 
he's  getting  better  fast." 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert's  face  exhibited  no  con- 
ventional signs  of  gladness.  He  continued  to 
walk  the  floor  of  the  dusty  bare  room. 

"  Take  this  chair,  doctor,"  he  mumbled. 

The  doctor  sat  down. 

"  This  affair  is  variously  appreciated — m  town 
and  in  the  army.  In  fact  the  diversity  of  opinions 
is  amusing." 

"  Is  it? "  mumbled  Lieutenant  D'Hubert, 
tramping  steadily  from  wall  to  wall.  But  within 
himself  he  marvelled  that  there  could  be  two 
opinions  on  the  matter.  The  surgeon  continued : 

"  Of  course  as  the  real  facts  are  not  known — " 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  interrupted  D'Hu- 
bert, "  that  the  fellow  would  have  put  you  in 
possession  of  the  facts." 

[42] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  He  did  say  something,"  admitted  the  other, 
"  the  first  time  I  saw  him.  And,  by-the-l)ye,  I 
did  find  him  in  the  garden.  The  thump  on  the 
back  of  his  head  had  made  liim  a  httle  incoherent 
then.  Afterwards  he  was  rather  reticent  than 
otherw^ise." 

"  Didn't  think  he  would  have  the  grace  to  be 
ashamed,"  grunted  D'Hubert,  who  had  stood 
still  for  a  moment.  He  resumed  his  pacing  while 
the  doctor  murmured. 

"  It's  very  amusing.  Ashamed?  Shame  was 
not  exactly  his  frame  of  mind.  However,  you 
may  look  at  the  matter  otherwise " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about?  What  mat- 
ter? "  asked  D'Hubert  with  a  sidelong  look  at 
the  heavy-faced,  gray-haired  figure  seated  on  a 
wooden  chair. 

"  Whatever  it  is,"  said  the  surgeon,  "  I 
wouldn't  pronounce  an  opinion  on  your  con- 
duct. .  .  ." 

"  By  heavens,  you  had  better  not,"  burst  out 
D'Hubert. 

"  There!  There!  Don't  be  so  quick  in  flourish- 

[43] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
ing  the  sword.  It  doesn't  pay  in  the  long  run. 
Understand  once  for  all  that  I  would  not  carve 
any  of  you  youngsters  except  with  the  tools  of 
my  trade.  But  my  advice  is  good.  Moderate  your 
temper.  If  you  go  on  like  this  you  will  make  for 
yourself  an  ugly  reputation." 

"Go  on  like  what?"  demanded  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert,  stopping  short,  quite  startled.  "I!  I! 
make  for  myself  a  reputation.  .  .  .  What  do 
you  imagine " 

"  I  told  you  I  don't  wish  to  judge  of  the  rights 
and  wrongs  of  this  incident.  It's  not  my  business. 
Nevertheless.  ..." 

"  What  on  earth  has  he  been  telling  you? " 
interrupted  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  in  a  sort  of 
awed  scare. 

"  I  told  you  already  that  at  first  when  I  picked 
him  up  in  the  garden  he  was  incoherent.  After- 
wards he  was  naturally  reticent.  But  I  gather  at 
least  that  he  could  not  help  himself.  .  .  ." 

"He  couldn't?"  shouted  Lieutenant  D'Hu- 
bert. Then  lowering  his  voice,  "And  what  about 
me?  Could  I  help  myself?  " 

[44] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

The  surgeon  rose.  His  thoughts  were  running 
upon  the  flute,  his  constant  companion,  with  a 
consohng  voice.  In  the  vicinity  of  field  ambu- 
lances, after  twenty-four  hours'  hard  work,  he  had 
been  known  to  trouble  with  its  sweet  sounds  the 
horrible  stillness  of  battlefields  given  over  to 
silence  and  the  dead.  The  solacing  hour  of  his 
daily  life  was  approaching  and  in  peace  time  he 
held  on  to  the  minutes  as  a  miser  to  his  hoard. 

"  Of  course!  Of  course!  "  he  said  perfunctorily. 
"  You  would  think  so.  It's  amusing.  However, 
being  perfectl}--  neutral  and  friendly  to  you  both, 
I  have  consented  to  deliver  his  message.  Say 
that  I  am  humouring  an  invalid  if  you  like. 
He  says  that  this  aflFair  is  by  no  means  at  an  end. 
He  intends  to  send  you  his  seconds  directly  he 
has  regained  his  strength — providing,  of  course, 
the  army  is  not  in  the  field  at  that  time." 

"  He  intends — does  he?  Why  certainly," 
spluttered  Lieutenant  D 'Hubert  passionately. 
The  secret  of  this  exasperation  was  not  apparent 
to  the  visitor;  but  this  passion  confirmed  him  in 
the  belief  which  was  gaining  ground  outside  that 

[45] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

some  very  serious  difference  had  arisen  between 
these  two  young  men.  Something  serious  enough 
to  wear  an  air  of  mystery.  Some  fact  of  the 
utmost  gravity.  To  settle  their  urgent  differ- 
ence those  two  young  men  had  risked  being 
broken  and  disgraced  at  the  outset,  almost,  of 
their  career.  And  he  feared  that  the  forthcom- 
ing inquiry  would  fail  to  satisfy  the  public  curi- 
osity. They  would  not  take  the  public  into  their 
confidence  as  to  that  something  which  had  passed 
between  them  of  a  nature  so  outrageous  as  to 
make  them  face  a  charge  of  murder — neither 
more  nor  less.  But  what  could  it  be? 

The  surgeon  was  not  very  curious  by  tempera- 
ment; but  that  question,  haunting  his  mind, 
caused  him  twice  that  evening  to  hold  the  instru- 
ment off  his  lips  and  sit  silent  for  a  whole  minute 
— right  in  the  middle  of  a  tune — trying  to  form 
a  plausible  conjecture. 


[46] 


II 


HE  succeeded  in  this  object  no  better  than 
the  rest  of  the  garrison  and  the  whole  of 
society.  The  two  young  officers,  of  no 
especial  consequence  till  then,  became  distin- 
guished by  the  universal  curiosity  as  to  the  origin 
of  their  quarrel.  INIadame  de  Lionne's  salon  was 
the  centre  of  ingenious  surmises;  that  lady  her- 
self was  for  a  time  assailed  with  inquiries  as 
the  last  person  known  to  have  spoken  to  these 
unhappy  and  reckless  young  men  before  they 
went  out  together  from  her  house  to  a  savage 
encounter  with  swords,  at  dusk,  in  a  private 
garden.  She  protested  she  had  noticed  nothing 
unusual  in  their  demeanour.  Lieutenant  Feraud 
had  been  visibly  annoyed  at  being  called  away. 
That  was  natural  enough ;  no  man  likes  to  be  dis- 
turbed in  a  conversation  with  a  lady  famed  for 
her  elegance  and  sensibility.  But,  in  truth,  the 

[47] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
subject  bored  Madame  de  Lionne  since  her  per- 
sonality could  by  no  stretch  of  imagination  be 
connected  with  this  affair.  And  it  irritated  her  to 
hear  it  advanced  that  there  might  have  been  some 
woman  in  the  case.  This  irritation  arose,  not  from 
her  elegance  or  sensibility,  but  from  a  more  in- 
stinctive side  of  her  nature.  It  became  so  great  at 
last  that  she  peremptorily  forbade  the  subject  to 
be  mentioned  under  her  roof.  Near  her  couch  the 
proliibition  was  obeyed,  but  farther  off  in  the 
salon  the  pall  of  the  imposed  silence  continued  to 
be  lifted  more  or  less.  A  diplomatic  personage 
with  a  long  pale  face  resembling  the  countenance 
of  a  sheep,  opined,  shaking  his  head,  that  it  was  a 
quarrel  of  long  standing  envenomed  by  time.  It 
was  objected  to  him  that  the  men  themselves 
were  too  young  for  such  a  theory  to  fit  their 
proceedings.  They  belonged  also  to  different 
and  distant  parts  of  France.  A  subcommissary 
of  the  Intendence,  an  agreeable  and  cultivated 
bachelor  in  keysermere  breeches,  Hessian  boots 
and  a  blue  coat  embroidered  with  silver  lace, 
who  affected  to  believe  in  the  transmigration 

[48] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
of  souls,  suggested  that  the  two  had  met  per- 
haps in  some  previous  existence.  The  feud  was 
in  the  forgotten  past.  It  might  have  been  some- 
thing quite  inconceivable  in  the  present  state  of 
their  being;  but  their  souls  remembered  the  ani- 
mosity and  manifested  an  instinctive  antagonism. 
He  developed  his  theme  jocularly.  Yet  the  affair 
was  so  absurd  from  the  worldly,  the  military,  the 
honourable,  or  the  prudential  point  of  view,  that 
this  weird  explanation  seemed  rather  more  rea- 
sonable than  any  other. 

The  two  officers  had  confided  nothing  definite 
to  any  one.  Resentment,  humiliation  at  having 
been  worsted  arms  in  hand,  and  an  uneasy  feeling 
of  having  been  involved  into  a  scrape  by  the  in- 
justice of  fate,  kept  Lieutenant  Feraud  savagely 
dumb.  He  mistrusted  the  sympathy  of  mankind. 
That  would  of  course  go  to  that  dandified  staff 
officer.  Lying  in  bed  he  raved  to  himself  in  his 
mind  or  aloud  to  the  pretty  maid  who  ministered 
to  his  needs  with  devotion  and  listened  to  his  hor- 
rible imprecations  with  alarm.  That  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert  should  be  made  to  "  pay  for  it,"  what- 

[49] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

ever  it  was,  seemed  to  her  just  and  natural.  Her 
principal  concern  was  that  Lieutenant  Feraud 
should  not  excite  himself.  He  appeared  so  wholly 
admirable  and  fascinating  to  the  humility  of  her 
heart  that  her  only  concern  was  to  see  him  get 
well  quickly  even  if  it  were  only  to  resume  his 
visits  to  Madame  de  Lionne's  salon. 

Lieutenant  D 'Hubert  kept  silent  for  the  im- 
mediate reason  that  there  was  no  one  except  a 
stupid  young  soldier  servant  to  speak  to.  But  he 
was  not  anxious  for  the  opportunities  of  which 
his  severe  arrest  deprived  him.  He  would  have 
been  uncommunicative  from  dread  of  ridicule. 
He  was  aware  that  the  episode,  so  grave  pro- 
fessionally, had  its  comic  side.  When  reflecting 
upon  it  he  still  felt  that  he  would  like  to  wring 
Lieutenant  Feraud's  neck  for  him.  But  this  for- 
mula was  figurative  rather  than  precise,  and  ex- 
pressed more  a  state  of  mind  than  an  actual 
physical  impulse.  At  the  same  time  there  was  in 
that  young  man  a  feeling  of  comradeship  and 
kindness  which  made  him  unwilling  to  make  the 
position  of  Lieutenant  Feraud  worse  than  it  was. 

[50  1 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
He  did  not  want   to  talk  at  large   about  this 
wretched  affair.  At  the  inquiry  he  would  have,  of 
course,  to  speak  the  truth  in  self-defence.  This 
prospect  vexed  him. 

But  no  inquiry  took  place.  The  army  took  the 
field  instead.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  liberated 
without  remark,  returned  to  his  regimental  du- 
ties, and  I  lieutenant  Feraud,  his  arm  still  in  a 
sling,  rode  unquestioned  with  his  squadron  to 
complete  his  convalescence  in  the  smoke  of  battle- 
fields and  the  fresh  air  of  night  bivouacs.  This 
bracing  treatment  suited  his  case  so  well  tliat  at 
the  first  rumour  of  an  armistice  being  signed  he 
could  turn  without  misgivings  to  the  prosecution 
of  his  private  warfare. 

This  time  it  was  to  be  regular  warfare.  He 
dispatched  two  friends  to  Lieutenant  D'Hubert, 
whose  regiment  was  stationed  only  a  few  miles 
away.  Those  friends  had  asked  no  questions  of 
their  principal.  "  I  must  pay  him  ofi^,  that  pretty 
staff  officer,"  he  had  said  grimly,  and  they  went 
away  quite  contentedly  on  their  mission.  Lieuten- 
ant D'Hubert  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  two 

[51] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

friends  equally  discreet  and  devoted  to  their  prin- 
cipal. "  There's  a  sort  of  crazy  fellow  to  whom 
I  must  give  another  lesson,"  he  had  curtly  de- 
clared, and  they  asked  for  no  better  reasons. 

On  these  grounds  an  encounter  with  duelling 
swords  was  arranged  one  early  morning  in  a 
convenient  field.  At  the  third  set-to,  Lieutenant 
D 'Hubert  found  himself  lying  on  his  back  on 
the  dewy  grass,  with  a  hole  in  his  side.  A  serene 
sun,  rising  over  a  German  landscape  of  meadows 
and  wooded  hills,  hung  on  his  left.  A  surgeon — 
not  the  flute-player  but  another — was  bending 
over  him,  feeling  around  the  wound. 

"  Narrow  squeak.  But  it  will  be  nothing," 
he  pronounced. 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  heard  these  words  with 
pleasure.  One  of  his  seconds — the  one  who,  sit- 
ting on  the  wet  grass,  was  sustaining  his  head 
on  his  lap — said: 

"  The  fortune  of  war,  mon  pauvre  vieux. 
What  will  you  have?  You  had  better  make  it 
up,  like  two  good  fellows.  Do!  " 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  ask,"  murmured 

[52] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  in  a  feeble  voice.  *'  How- 
ever, if  he  .  .  ." 

In  another  part  of  the  meadow  the  seconds 
of  Lieutenant  Feraud  were  urging  him  to  go 
over  and  shake  hands  witli  his  adversary. 

"  You  have  paid  him  off  now — que  diahle. 
It's  the  proper  thing  to  do.  This  D'Hubert  is  a 
decent  fellow." 

"  I  kno\v  the  decenc}''  of  these  generals' 
pets,"  muttered  Lieutenant  Feraud  through 
his  teeth  for  all  answer.  The  sombre  expres- 
sion of  his  face  discouraged  further  efforts  at 
reconciliation.  The  seconds,  bowing  from  a  dis- 
tance, took  their  men  off  the  field.  In  the  af- 
ternoon. Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  very  popular 
as  a  good  comrade  uniting  great  braver)''  with 
a  frank  and  equable  temper,  had  many  visitors. 
It  was  remarked  that  Lieutenant  Feraud  did 
not,  as  customary,  show  himself  much  abroad 
to  receive  the  felicitations  of  his  friends.  They 
would  not  have  failed  him,  because  he,  too,  was 
liked  for  the  exuberance  of  his  southern  na- 
ture and  the  simplicity  of  his  character.  In  all 

[  -^^S  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

the  places  where  officers  were  in  the  habit  of 
assembHng  at  the  end  of  the  day  the  duel  of  the 
morning  was  talked  over  from  eveiy  point  of 
view.  Though  Lieutenant  D' Hubert  had  got 
worsted  this  time,  his  sword-play  was  com- 
mended. No  one  could  deny  that  it  was  very 
close,  very  scientific.  If  he  got  touched,  some  said, 
it  was  because  he  wished  to  spare  his  adversary. 
But  by  many  the  vigour  and  dash  of  Lieutenant 
Feraud's  attack  were  pronoimced  irresistible. 

The  merits  of  the  two  officers  as  combatants 
were  frankly  discussed;  but  their  attitude  to 
each  other  after  the  duel  was  criticised  lightly 
and  with  caution.  It  was  irreconcilable,  and 
that  was  to  be  regretted.  After  all,  they  knew 
best  what  the  care  of  their  honour  dictated.  It 
was  not  a  matter  for  their  comrades  to  pry  into 
overmuch.  As  to  the  origin  of  the  quarrel,  the 
general  impression  was  that  it  dated  from  the 
time  they  were  holding  garrison  in  Strasburg. 
Only  the  musical  surgeon  shook  his  head  at 
that.  It  went  much  farther  back,  he  hinted  dis- 
creetly. 

[54] 


THE     POINT    OF    HONOR 

*'Why!  You  must  know  the  whole  story," 
cried  several  voices,  eager  with  curiosity.  "  You 
were  there!  What  was  it?  " 

He  raised  his  eyes  from  his  glass  deliberately 
and  said: 

"  Even  if  I  knew  ever  so  well,  you  can't  ex- 
pect me  to  tell  you,  since  both  the  principals 
choose  to  say  nothing." 

He  got  up  and  went  out,  leaving  the  sense  of 
mysterj''  behind  him.  He  could  not  stay  longer 
because  the  witching  hour  of  flute-playing  was 
drawing  near.  After  he  had  gone  a  very  yomig 
officer  observed  solemnly: 

"  Obviously!  His  lips  are  sealed." 

Nobody  questioned  the  high  propriety  of  that 
remark.  Somehow  it  added  to  the  impressiveness 
of  the  aff^air.  Several  older  officers  of  both  regi- 
ments, prompted  by  nothing  but  sheer  kindness 
and  love  of  harmony,  proposed  to  form  a  Coiu't 
of  Honour  to  which  the  two  officers  would  leave 
the  task  of  their  reconciliation.  Unfortunately, 
they  began  by  approaching  Lieutenant  Feraud. 
The   assmiiption  was,  that  having  just  scored 

[55] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

heavilj'',  he  would  be  found  placable  and  disposed 
to  moderation. 

The  reasoning  was  sound  enough;  neverthe- 
less, the  move  turned  out  unfortunate.  In  that 
relaxation  of  moral  fibre  which  is  brought  about 
by  the  ease  of  soothed  vanity,  Lieutenant  Feraud 
had  condescended  in  the  secret  of  his  heart  to 
review  the  case,  and  even  to  doubt  not  the  justice 
of  his  cause,  but  the  absolute  sagacity  of  his 
conduct.  This  being  so,  he  was  disinclined  to  talk 
about  it.  The  suggestion  of  the  regimental  wise 
men  put  him  in  a  difficult  position.  He  was  dis- 
gusted, and  this  disgust  by  a  sort  of  paradoxical 
logic  reawakened  his  animosity  against  Lieuten- 
ant D'Hubei-t.  Was  he  to  be  pestered  with  this 
fellow  for  ever — the  fellow  who  had  an  infernal 
knack  of  getting  round  people  somehow?  On  the 
other  hand,  it  was  difficult  to  refuse  point-blank 
that  sort  of  mediation  sanctioned  by  the  code  of 
honour. 

Lieutenant  Feraud  met  the  difficulty  by  an  at- 
titude of  fierce  reserve.  He  twisted  his  moustache 
and  used  vague  words.  His  case  was  perfectly 

[56] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
clear.  He  was  not  ashamed  to  present  it,  neither 
was  he  afraid  to  defend  it  personally.  He  did  not 
see  any  reason  to  jump  at  the  suggestion  hefore 
ascertaining  how  his  adversary  was  likely  to 
take  it. 

Later  in  the  day,  his  exasperation  growing 
upon  him,  he  was  heard  in  a  public  place  say- 
ing sardonically  "  that  it  would  be  the  very  lucki- 
est thing  for  Lieutenant  D'llubeii,  since  next 
time  of  meeting  he  need  not  hope  to  get  off 
with  a  mere  trifle  of  three  weeks  in  bed." 

This  boastful  phrase  might  have  been  prompt- 
ed by  the  most  profound  Machiavelism.  South- 
ern natures  often  hide  under  the  outward  im- 
pulsiveness of  action  and  speech  a  certain  amount 
of  astuteness. 

Lieutenant  Feraud,  mistrusting  the  justice  of 
men,  by  no  means  desired  a  Court  of  Honour. 
And  these  words,  according  so  well  with  his 
temperament,  had  also  the  merit  of  serving  his 
turn.  Whether  meant  for  that  purpose  or  not, 
they  found  their  way  in  less  than  four-and- 
twenty  hours  into  Lieutenant  D'Hubert's  bed- 

[57] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

room.  In  consequence,  Lieutenant  D'Hubert, 
sitting  propped  up  with  pillows,  received  the 
overtures  made  to  him  next  day  by  the  state- 
ment that  the  affair  was  of  a  nature  which  could 
not  bear  discussion. 

The  pale  face  of  the  wounded  officer,  his 
weak  voice  which  he  had  yet  to  use  cautiously, 
and  the  courteous  dignity  of  his  tone,  had  a 
great  effect  on  his  hearers.  Reported  outside, 
all  this  did  more  for  deepening  the  mystery 
than  the  vapourings  of  Lieutenant  Feraud.  This 
last  was  greatly  relieved  at  the  issue.  He  began 
to  enjoy  the  state  of  general  wonder,  and  was 
pleased  to  add  to  it  by  assuming  an  attitude  of 
moody  reserve. 

The  colonel  of  Lieutenant  D 'Hubert's  regi- 
ment was  a  gray-haired,  weather-beaten  warrior 
who  took  a  simple  view  of  his  responsibihties. 
"  I  can't  " — he  thought  to  himself — "  let  the  best 
of  my  subalterns  get  damaged  like  this  for  noth- 
ing. I  must  get  to  the  bottom  of  this  affair  pri- 
vately. He  must  speak  out,  if  the  devil  were  in 
it.   The  colonel  should  be  more  than  a  father 

[58] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

to  these  youngsters."  And,  indeed,  he  loved  all 
his  men  with  as  much  affection  as  a  father  of 
a  large  family  can  feel  for  every  individual 
member  of  it.  If  human  beings  by  an  oversight 
of  Providence  came  into  the  world  in  the  state 
of  civilians,  they  were  born  again  into  a  regi- 
ment as  infants  are  born  into  a  family,  and  it  was 
that  military  birth  alone  which  really  counted. 

At  the  sight  of  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  stand- 
ing before  him  bleached  and  hollow-ej'-ed,  the 
heart  of  the  old  warrior  was  touched  with 
genuine  compassion.  All  his  affection  for  the 
regiment — that  body  of  men  which  he  held  in  his 
hand  to  lamich  forward  and  draw  back,  who  had 
given  him  his  rank,  ministered  to  his  pride  and 
commanded  his  thoughts — seemed  centred  for  a 
moment  on  the  person  of  the  most  promising 
subaltern.  He  cleared  his  throat  in  a  threatening 
manner  and  frowned  terribly. 

"  You  must  understand,"  he  began,  "  that  I 
don't  care  a  rap  for  the  life  of  a  single  man  in 
the  regiment.  You  know  that  I  would  send  the 
748  of  you  men  and  horses  galloping  into  the  pit 

[59] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
of  perdition  with  no  more  compunction  than  I 
would  kill  a  fly." 

"  Yes,  colonel.  You  would  be  riding  at  our 
head,"  said  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  with  a  wan 
smile. 

The  colonel,  who  felt  the  need  of  being  very 
diplomatic,  fairly  roared  at  this. 

"  I  want  you  to  know.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert, 
that  I  could  stand  aside  and  see  you  all  riding 
to  Hades,  if  need  be.  I  am  a  man  to  do  even 
that,  if  the  good  of  the  service  and  my  duty  to 
my  country  required  it  from  me.  But  that's  un- 
thinkable, so  don't  you  even  hint  at  such  a  thing." 

He  glared  awfully,  but  his  voice  became  gen- 
tle. "  There's  some  milk  yet  about  that  moustache 
of  yours,  my  boy.  You  don't  know  what  a  man 
like  me  is  capable  of.  I  would  hide  behind  a  hay- 
stack if  .  .  .  Don't  grin  at  me,  sir.  How  dare  you? 
If  this  were  not  a  private  conversation,  I  would 
...  Look  here.  I  am  responsible  for  the  proper 
expenditure  of  lives  under  my  command  for  the 
glory  of  our  coimtry  and  the  honour  of  the  regi- 
ment. Do  you  understand  that?  Well,  then,  what 

[60] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

the  devil  do  you  mean  by  letting  yourself  be 
spitted  like  this  by  that  fellow  of  the  Seventh 
Hussars?  It's  simply  disgraceful!  " 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  who  expected  another 
sort  of  conclusion,  felt  vexed  beyond  measure. 
His  shoulders  moved  slightly.  He  made  no 
other  answer.  He  could  not  ignore  his  responsi- 
bility. The  colonel  softened  his  glance  and  low- 
ered his  voice. 

"  It's  deplorable,"  he  murmured.  And  again 
he  changed  his  tone.  "  Come,"  he  went  on 
persuasively,  but  with  that  note  of  authority 
which  dwells  in  the  throat  of  a  good  leader  of 
men,  "  this  affair  must  be  settled.  I  desire  to  be 
told  plainly  what  it  is  all  about.  I  demand,  as 
your  best  friend,  to  know." 

The  compelling  power  of  authority,  the  soft- 
ening influence  of  the  kindness  affected  deeply 
a  man  just  risen  from  a  bed  of  sickness.  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert's  hand,  which  grasped  the 
knob  of  a  stick,  trembled  slightly.  But  his  north- 
em  temperament,  sentimental  but  cautious  and 
clear-sighted,  too,  in  its  idealistic  way,  predom- 

[61] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
inated  over  his  impulse  to  make  a  clean  breast 
of  the  whole  deadly  absurdity.  According  to  the 
precept  of  transcendental  wisdom,  he  turned  his 
tongue  seven  times  in  his  mouth  before  he  spoke. 
He  made  then  only  a  speech  of  thanks,  nothing 
more.  The  colonel  listened  interested  at  first,  then 
looked  mystified.  At  last  he  frowned. 

"  You  hesitate — mille  tonerres!  Haven't  I  told 
you  that  I  will  condescend  to  argue  with  j''ou — 
as  a  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes,  colonel,"  answered  Lieutenant  D'Hu- 
bert  softly,  "  but  I  am  afraid  that  after  you  have 
heard  me  out  as  a  friend,  you  will  take  action 
as  my  superior  officer." 

The  attentive  colonel  snapped  his  jaws. 

"Well,  what  of  that?"  he  said  frankly.  "Is 
it  so  damnably  disgraceful?" 

"  It  is  not,"  negatived  Lieutenant  D'Hubert 
in  a  faint  but  resolute  voice. 

"  Of  course  I  shall  act  for  the  good  of  the 
service — nothing  can  prevent  me  doing  that. 
What  do  you  think  I  want  to  be  told  for? " 

"  I  know  it  is  not  from  idle  curiosity,"  pro- 

[62] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
tested  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  "  I  know  you  will 
act  wisely.  But  what  about  the  good  fame  of  the 
regiment?  " 

"  It  cannot  be  affected  by  any  youthful  folly 
of  a  lieutenant,"  the  colonel  said  severely. 

"  Xo,  it  cannot  be ;  but  it  can  be  by  evil 
tongues.  It  will  be  said  tliat  a  lieutenant  of  the 
Fourth  Hussars,  afraid  of  meeting  his  adversary, 
is  hiding  behind  his  colonel.  And  that  would  be 
worse  than  hiding  behind  a  haystack — for  the 
good  of  the  service.  I  cannot  afford  to  do  that, 
colonel." 

"  Nobody  would  dare  to  say  an}i:hing  of  the 
kind,"  the  colonel,  beginning  very  fiercely, 
ended  on  an  uncertain  note.  The  bravery  of 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert  was  well  known;  but  the 
colonel  was  well  aware  that  the  duelling  courage, 
the  single  combat  courage,  is,  rightly  or  wrongly, 
supposed  to  be  courage  of  a  special  sort;  and  it 
was  eminently  necessary  that  an  officer  of  his 
regiment  should  possess  every  kind  of  courage — 
and  prove  it,  too.  The  colonel  stuck  out  his  lower 
lip  and  looked  far  away  with  a  peculiar  glazed 

[63] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

stare.  This  was  the  expression  of  his  perplexity, 
an  expression  practically  unknown  to  his  regi- 
ment, for  perplexity  is  a  sentiment  which  is  in- 
compatible with  the  rank  of  colonel  of  cavalry. 
The  colonel  himself  was  overcome  by  the  un- 
pleasant novelty  of  the  sensation.  As  he  was 
not  accustomed  to  think  except  on  professional 
matters  connected  with  the  welfare  of  men  and 
horses  and  the  proper  use  thereof  on  the  field  of 
glory,  his  intellectual  efforts  degenerated  into 
mere  mental  repetitions  of  profane  language. 
"  Mille  tonerres!  .  .  .  Sacre  nom  de  nom  .  .  /^ 
he  tliought. 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  coughed  painfully  and 
went  on,  in  a  weary  voice: 

"  There  will  be  plenty  of  evil  tongues  to  say 
that  I've  been  cowed.  And  I  am  sure  you  will 
not  expect  me  to  pass  that  sort  of  thing  over.  I 
may  find  myself  suddenly  with  a  dozen  duels  on. 
my  hands  instead  of  this  one  affair." 

The  direct  simplicity  of  this  argument  came 
home  to  the  colonel's  understanding.  He  looked 
at  his  subordinate  fixedly. 

[64] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
"  Sit  down,  lieutenant,"  he  said  gruffly.  "  This 
is  the  very  devil  of  a  ...  sit  dovm." 

"  Mon  colonel"  D'Hubert  began  again.  "  I 
am  not  afraid  of  evil  tongues.  There's  a  way  of 
silencing  them.  But  there's  my  peace  of  mind  too. 
I  wouldn't  be  able  to  shake  off  the  notion  that 
I've  ruined  a  brother  officer.  Whatever  action  you 
take  it  is  bound  to  go  further.  The  inquiry  has 
been  dropped — let  it  rest  now.  It  would  have 
been  the  end  of  Feraud." 

"  Hey?  What?  Did  he  behave  so  badly?  " 
"  Yes,  it  was  pretty  bad,"  muttered  Lieuten- 
ant D'Hubert.  Being  still  very  weak,  he  felt  a 
disposition  to  cry. 

As  the  other  man  did  not  belong  to  his  own 
regiment  the  colonel  had  no  difficulty  in  believ- 
ing this.  He  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the 
room.  He  was  a  good  chief  and  a  man  capable 
of  discreet  sympathy.  But  he  was  human  in  other 
ways,  too,  and  they  were  apparent  because  he 
was  not  capable  of  artifice. 

"The  very  devil,  lieutenant!"  he  blurted  out 
in  the  innocence  of  his  heart,  "  is  that  I  have  de- 

[65] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

clared  my  intention  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  this 
affair.  And  when  a  colonel  says  something  .  .  . 
you  see  ..." 

Lieutenant  D' Hubert  broke  in  earnestly. 

"  Let  me  entreat  you,  colonel,  to  be  satisfied 
with  taking  my  word  of  honour  that  I  was  put 
into  a  damnable  position  where  I  had  no  option. 
I  had  no  choice  whatever  consistent  with  my 
dignity  as  a  man  and  an  officer.  .  .  .  After  all, 
colonel,  this  fact  is  the  very  bottom  of  this  af- 
fair. Here  youVe  got  it.  The  rest  is  a  mere 
detail.  .  .  ." 

The  colonel  stopped  short.  The  reputation  of 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert  for  good  sense  and  good 
temper  weighed  in  the  balance.  A  cool  head, 
a  warm  heart,  open  as  the  day.  Always  cor- 
rect in  his  behaviour.  One  had  to  trust  him. 
The  colonel  repressed  manfully  an  immense 
curiosity. 

"  H'm!  You  affirm  that  as  a  man  and  an 
officer.  .  .  .  No  option?  Eh?" 

"  As  an  officer,  an  officer  of  the  Fourth  Hus- 
sars, too,"  repeated  Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  "  I 

[66] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
had  not.  And  that  is  the  bottom  of*  the  affair, 
colonel." 

"  Yes.  But  still  I  don't  see  why  to  one's  colo- 
nel ...  A  colonel  is  a  father — que  diable." 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert  ought  not  to  have  been 
allowed  out  as  yet.  He  was  becoming  aware  of 
his  physical  insufficiency  with  hmniliation  and 
despair — but  the  morbid  obstinacy  of  an  invalid 
possessed  him — and  at  the  same  time  he  felt,  with 
dismay,  his  eyes  filhng  with  water.  This  trouble 
seemed  too  big  to  handle.  A  tear  fell  down  the 
thin,  pale  cheek  of  Lieutenant  D'Hubert.  The 
colonel  turned  his  back  on  him  hastily.  You  could 
have  heard  a  pin  drop. 

"  This  is  some  silly  woman  story — is  it  not? " 

The  chief  spun  round  to  seize  the  truth,  which 
is  not  a  beautiful  shape  living  in  a  well  but  a 
shy  bird  best  caught  by  stratagem.  This  was  the 
last  move  of  the  colonel's  diplomacy,  and  he  saw 
the  truth  shining  unmistakably  in  the  gesture  of 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert,  raising  his  weak  arms  and 
his  eyes  to  heaven  in  supreme  protest. 

"Not    a    woman    affair — eh?"    growled    the 

[67] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
colonel,  staring-  hard.  "  I  don't  ask  you  who  or 
where.  All  I  want  to  know  is  whether  there  is 
a  woman  in  it? " 

Lieutenant  D'Hubert's  arms  dropped  and  his 
weak  voice  was  pathetically  broken. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,  mon  colonel." 

"  On  your  honour?  "  insisted  the  old  warrior. 

"  On  my  honour." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  colonel  thoughtfully, 
and  bit  his  lip.  The  arguments  of  Lieutenant 
D'Hubert,  helped  by  his  liking  for  the  person, 
had  convinced  him.  Yet  it  was  highly  improper 
that  his  intervention,  of  which  he  had  made  no 
secret,  should  produce  no  visible  effect.  He  kept 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert  a  little  longer  and  dis- 
missed him  kindly. 

"  Take  a  few  days  more  in  bed,  lieutenant. 
What  the  devil  does  the  surgeon  mean  by  re- 
porting you  fit  for  duty? " 

On  coming  out  of  the  colonel's  quarters.  Lieu- 
tenant D'Hubert  said  nothing  to  the  friend  who 
was  waiting  outside  to  take  him  home.  He  said 
nothing  to  anybody.  Lieutenant  D'Hubert  made 

[68] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
no  confidences.  But  in  the  evening  of  that  day 
the   colonel,   strolling  under  the   elms   growing 
near  his  quarters  in  the  company  of  his  second 
in  command  opened  his  lips. 

"  I've  got  to  the  bottom  of  this  affair,"  he  re- 
marked. 

The  lieutenant-colonel,  a  dry  brown  chip  of  a 
man  with  short  side-whiskers,  pricked  up  his  eai-s 
without  letting  a  sound  of  curiosity  escape  him. 

*'  It's  no  trifle,"  added  the  colonel  oracularly. 
The  other  waited  for  a  long  while  before  he 
murmured : 

"  Indeed,  sir!  " 

"  No  trifle,"  repeated  the  colonel,  looking 
straight  before  him.  "  I've,  however,  forbidden 
D'Hubert  either  to  send  to  or  receive  a  challenge 
from  Feraud  for  the  next  twelve  months." 

He  had  imagined  this  prohibition  to  save  the 
prestige  a  colonel  should  have.  The  result  of  it 
was  to  give  an  official  seal  to  the  mystery  sur- 
rounding this  deadly  quarrel.  I^ieutenant  D'Hu- 
bert repelled  by  an  impassive  silence  all  attempts 
to  worm  the  truth  out  of  him.  Lieutenant  Fe- 

[69] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

i-aud,  secretly  uneasy  at  first,  regained  his  assur- 
ance as  time  went  on.  He  disguised  his  ignorance 
of  the  meaning  of  the  imposed  truce  by  little 
sardonic  laughs  as  though  he  were  amused  by 
what  he  intended  to  keep  to  himself.  "  But  what 
will  you  do?  "  his  chums  used  to  ask  him.  He 
contented  himself  by  replying,  "  Qui  vivra  verra," 
with  a  truculent  air.  And  everybody  admired 
his  discretion. 

Before  the  end  of  the  truce,  Lieutenant  D 'Hu- 
bert got  his  promotion.  It  was  well  earned,  but 
somehow  no  one  seemed  to  expect  the  event. 
When  Lieutenant  Feraud  heard  of  it  at  a  gath- 
ering of  officers,  he  muttered  through  his  teeth, 
"  Is  that  so?  "  Unhooking  his  sword  from  a  peg 
near  the  door,  he  buckled  it  on  carefully  and  left 
the  company  without  another  word.  He  walked 
home  with  measured  steps,  stinick  a  light  with 
his  flint  and  steel,  and  lit  his  tallow  candle.  Then, 
snatching  an  unlucky  glass  tumbler  off  the  man- 
telpiece, he  dashed  it  violently  on  the  floor. 

Now  that  D'Hubert  was  an  officer  of  a  rank 
superior  to  his  own,  there  could  be  no  question 

[70] 


THE     POINT    OF    HONOR 

of  a  duel.  Neither  could  send  nor  receive  a 
challenge  without  rendering  himself  amenable 
to  a  court-martial.  It  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  Lieutenant  Feraud,  who  for  many  days 
now  had  experienced  no  real  desire  to  meet 
Lieutenant  D'Hubert  arms  in  hand,  chafed  at 
the  systematic  injustice  of  fate.  "  Does  he  think 
he  will  escape  me  in  that  way?"  he  thought 
indignantly.  He  saw  in  it  an  intrigue,  a  con- 
spiracy, a  cowardly  manoeuvre.  That  colonel 
knew  what  he  was  doing.  He  had  hastened  to 
recommend  his  pet  for  promotion.  It  was  outra- 
geous that  a  man  should  be  able  to  avoid  the  con- 
sequences of  his  acts  in  such  a  dark  and  tortuous 
manner. 

Of  a  happy-go-lucky  disposition,  of  a  temper- 
ament more  pugnacious  than  military,  lieuten- 
ant Feraud  had  been  content  to  give  and  receive 
blo\^  s  for  sheer  love  of  armed  strife  and  without 
much  thought  of  advancement.  But  after  this 
disgusting  experience  an  urgent  desire  of  pro- 
motion sprang  up  in  his  breast.  This  fighter 
by  vocation  resohed  in  his  mind  to  seize  showy 

[71] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

occasions  and  to  court  the  favourable  opinion 
of  his  chiefs  Hke  a  mere  worldhng.  He  knew 
he  was  as  brave  as  any  one  and  never  doubted 
his  personal  charm.  It  would  be  easy,  he  thought. 
Nevertheless,  neither  the  bravery  nor  the  charm 
seemed  to  work  veiy  swiftly.  Lieutenant  Fe- 
raud's  engaging,  careless  truculence  of  a  "  beau 
sabreur "  underwent  a  change.  He  began  to 
make  bitter  allusions  to  "  clever  fellows  who 
stick  at  nothing  to  get  on."  The  army  was 
full  of  them,  he  would  say,  you  had  only  to 
look  round.  And  all  the  time  he  had  in  view 
one  person  only,  his  adversary  D'Hubert.  Once 
he  confided  to  an  appreciative  friend:  "You 
see  I  don't  know  how  to  fawn  on  the  right  sort 
of  people.  It  isn't  in  me." 

He  did  not  get  his  step  till  a  week  after  Aus- 
terlitz.  The  light  cavalry  of  the  Grande  Armee 
had  its  hands  very  full  of  interesting  work  for 
a  little  while.  But  directly  the  pressure  of  pro- 
fessional occupation  had  been  eased  by  the  armis- 
tice, Captain  Feraud  took  measures  to  arrange 
a  meeting  without  loss  of  time.   "  I  know  his 

[72] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

tricks,"  he  observed  grimly.  "  If  I  don't  look 
sharp  he  will  take  care  to  get  himself  promoted 
over  the  heads  of  a  dozen  better  men  than  him- 
self. He's  got  the  knack  of  that  sort  of  thing." 
This  duel  was  fought  in  Silesia.  If  not  fought 
out  to  a  finish,  it  was  at  any  rate  fought  to  a 
standstill.  The  weapon  was  the  cavalry  sabre, 
and  the  skill,  the  science,  the  vigour,  and  the 
determination  displayed  by  the  adversaries  com- 
pelled the  outspoken  admiration  of  the  behold- 
ers. It  became  the  subject  of  talk  on  both  shores 
of  the  Danube,  and  as  far  south  as  the  garrisons 
of  Gratz  and  Laybach.  They  crossed  blades  seven 
times.  Both  had  many  slight  cuts — mere  scratches 
which  bled  profusely.  Both  refused  to  have  the 
combat  stopped,  time  after  time,  with  what  ap- 
peared the  most  deadly  animosity.  This  appear- 
ance was  caused  on  the  part  of  Captain  D'llu- 
bert  by  a  rational  desire  to  be  done  once  for  all 
M'ith  this  worry;  on  the  part  of  Feraud  by  a  tre- 
mendous exaltation  of  his  pugnacious  instincts 
and  the  rage  of  wounded  vanity.  At  last,  dishev- 
elled,  their   shirts   in    rags,    covered   with   gore 

[73] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
and  hardly  able  to  stand,  they  were  carried  forci- 
bly off  the  field  by  their  marvelling  and  horrified 
seconds.  Later  on,  besieged  by  comrades  avid  of 
details,  these  gentlemen  declared  that  they  could 
not  have  allowed  that  sort  of  hacking  to  go  on. 
Asked  whether  the  quarrel  was  settled  this  time, 
they  gave  it  out  as  their  conviction  that  it  was 
a  difference  which  could  only  be  settled  by  one 
of  the  parties  remaining  lifeless  on  the  ground. 
The  sensation  spread  from  army  to  army  corps, 
and  penetrated  at  last  to  the  smallest  detach- 
ments of  the  troops  cantoned  between  the  Rhine 
and  the  Save.  In  the  cafes  in  Vienna  where 
the  masters  of  Europe  took  their  ease  it  was 
generally  estimated  from  details  to  hand  that  the 
adversaries  would  be  able  to  meet  again  in  three 
weeks'  time,  on  the  outside.  Something  really 
transcendental  in  the  way  of  duelling  was  ex- 
pected. 

These  expectations  were  brought  to  naught  by 
the  necessities  of  the  service  which  separated  the 
two  officers.  No  official  notice  had  been  taken 
of  their  quarrel.  It  was  now  the  property  of  the 

[74] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

army,  and  not  to  be  meddled  with  lightly.  But 
the  story  of  the  duel,  or  rather  their  duelling 
propensities,  must  have  stood  somewhat  in  the 
way  of  their  advancement,  because  they  were  still 
captains  when  they  came  together  again  during 
the  war  with  Prussia.  Detached  north  after  Jena 
with  the  army  commanded  by  ^Marshal  Berna- 
dotte,  Prince  of  Ponte-Corvo,  they  entered  Lu- 
beck  together.  It  was  only  after  the  occupation 
of  that  toMTi  that  Captain  Feraud  had  leisure  to 
consider  his  future  conduct  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  Captain  D'Hubert  had  been  given  the  posi- 
tion of  third  aide-de-camp  to  the  marshal.  He 
considered  it  a  great  part  of  a  night,  and  in  the 
morning  summoned  two  sympathetic  friends. 

"  I've  been  thinking  it  over  calmly,"  he  said, 
gazing  at  them  with  bloodshot,  tired  eyes.  "  I 
see  that  I  must  get  rid  of  that  intriguing  per- 
sonage. Here  he's  managed  to  sneak  onto  the 
personal  staff  of  the  marshal.  It's  a  direct  provo- 
cation to  me.  I  can't  tolerate  a  situation  in  which 
I  am  exposed  any  day  to  receive  an  order  through 
him,  and  God  knows  what  order,  too!  That  sort 

[75] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
of  thing  has  happened  once  before — and  that's 
once  too  often.  He  understands  this  perfectly, 
never  fear.  I  can't  tell  you  more  than  this.  Now 
go.  You  know  what  it  is  you  have  to  do." 

This  encounter  took  place  outside  the  town  of 
Lubeck,  on  very  open  ground  selected  with  spe- 
cial care  in  deference  to  the  general  sense  of 
the  cavalry  division  belonging  to  the  army  corps, 
that  this  time  the  two  officers  should  meet  on 
horseback.  After  all,  this  duel  was  a  cavalry  af- 
fair, and  to  persist  in  fighting  on  foot  would  look 
like  a  slight  on  one's  own  arm  of  the  service. 
The  seconds,  startled  by  the  unusual  nature  of 
the  suggestion,  hastened  to  refer  to  their  prin- 
cipals. Captain  Feraud  jumped  at  it  with  savage 
alacrity.  For  some  obscure  reason,  depending, 
no  doubt,  on  his  psychology,  he  imagined  him- 
self invincible  on  horseback.  All  alone  within  the 
four  walls  of  his  room  he  iTibbed  his  hands  exult- 
ingly.  "Aha!  my  staff  officer,  I've  got  you 
now! 

Captain  D'Hubert,  on  his  side,  after  staring 
hard  for  a  considerable  time  at  his  bothered  sec- 

[76] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
onds,  shrugged  his  shoulders  shghtly.  This  affair 
had  hopelessly  and  unreasonably  complicated  his 
existence  for  him.  One  absurdity  more  or  less  in 
the  development  did  not  matter.  All  absurdity 
was  distasteful  to  him;  but,  urbane  as  ever,  he 
produced  a  faintly  ironic  smile  and  said  in  his 
calm  voice : 

"  It  certainly  will  do  away  to  some  extent  with 
the  monotony  of  the  thing." 

But,  left  to  himself,  he  sat  down  at  a  table  and 
took  his  head  into  his  hands.  He  had  not  spared 
himself  of  late,  and  the  marshal  had  been  work- 
ing his  aides-de-camp  particularly  hard.  The  last 
three  weeks  of  campaigning  in  horrible  weather 
had  affected  his  health.  When  overtired  he  suf- 
fered from  a  stitch  in  his  wounded  side,  and  that 
uncomfortable  sensation  always  depressed  him. 
"  It's  that  brute's  doing,"  he  thought  bitterly. 

The  day  before  he  had  received  a  letter  from 
home,  announcing  that  his  only  sister  was  going 
to  be  married.  He  reflected  that  from  the  time  she 
was  sixteen,  when  he  went  away  to  garrison  life 
in  Strasburg,  he  had  had  but  two  short  glimpses 

[77] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

of  her.  They  had  been  great  friends  and  con- 
fidants; and  now  they  were  going  to  give  her 
away  to  a  man  whom  he  did  not  know — a  very 
worthy  fellow,  no  doubt,  but  not  half  good 
enough  for  her.  He  would  never  see  his  old 
Leonie  again.  She  had  a  capable  little  head  and 
plenty  of  tact;  she  would  know  how  to  manage 
the  fellow,  to  be  sure.  He  was  easy  about  her  hap- 
piness, but  he  felt  ousted  from  the  first  place  in 
her  affection  which  had  been  his  ever  since  the 
girl  could  speak.  And  a  melancholy  regret  of 
the  days  of  his  childhood  settled  upon  Captain 
D'Hubert,  third  aide-de-camp  to  the  Prince  of 
Ponte-Corvo. 

He  pushed  aside  the  letter  of  congratulation 
he  had  begun  to  write,  as  in  duty  bound  but 
without  pleasure.  He  took  a  fresh  sheet  of  paper 
and  wrote:  "  This  is  my  last  will  and  testament." 
And,  looking  at  these  words,  he  gave  himself 
up  to  unpleasant  reflection;  a  presentiment  that 
he  would  never  see  the  scenes  of  his  childhood 
overcame  Captain  D'Hubert.  He  jumped  up, 
pushing  his  chair  back,  yawned  leisurely,  which 

[78] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

demonstrated  to  himself  tluit  he  didn't  care  any- 
thing for  presentiments,  and,  throwing  himself 
on  the  bed,  went  to  sleep.  During  the  night  he 
shivered  from  time  to  time  without  waking  up. 
In  the  morning  he  rode  out  of  town  between  his 
two  seconds,  talking  of  indifferent  things  and 
looking  right  and  left  with  apparent  detachment 
into  the  heavy  morning  mists,  shrouding  the  flat 
green  fields  bordered  by  hedges.  He  leaped  a 
ditcli,  and  sa^v  the  forms  of  many  mounted  men 
moving  in  the  low  fog.  "  We  are  to  fight  before 
a  gallery,"  he  muttered  bitterly. 

PTis  seconds  w^ere  rather  concerned  at  the  state 
of  the  atmosphere,  but  presently  a  pale  and  sym- 
pathetic sun  struggled  above  the  vapours.  Cap- 
tain D'Hubert  made  out  in  the  distance  three 
horsemen  riding  a  little  apart;  it  was  his  ad- 
versary and  his  seconds.  He  drew  his  sabre  and 
assured  himself  that  it  was  properly  fastened 
to  his  wrist.  And  now  the  seconds,  who  had 
been  standing  in  a  close  group  with  the  heads 
of  their  horses  together,  separated  at  an  easy 
canter,  leaving  a  large,  clear  field  between  him 

[79] 


^  THE     POINT    OF    HONOR 

and  his  adversary.  Captain  D' Hubert  looked  at 
the  pale  sun,  at  the  dismal  landscape,  and  the  im- 
becility of  the  impending  fight  filled  him  with 
desolation.  From  a  distant  part  of  the  field  a 
stentorian  voice  shouted  commands  at  proper  in- 
tervals: Au  pas — Au  trot — Chargez!  Presenti- 
ments of  death  don't  come  to  a  man  for  nothing 
he  thought  at  the  moment  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse. 

And  therefore  nobody  was  more  surprised 
than  himself  when,  at  the  very  first  set-to,  Cap- 
tain Feraud  laid  himself  open  to  a  cut  ex- 
tending over  the  forehead,  blinding  him  with 
blood,  and  ending  the  combat  almost  before 
it  had  fairly  begun.  The  surprise  of  Captain 
Feraud  might  have  been  even  greater.  Cap- 
tain D 'Hubert,  leaving  him  swearing  horribly 
and  reeling  in  the  saddle  between  his  two  ap- 
palled friends,  leaped  the  ditch  again  and  trot- 
ted home  with  his  two  seconds,  who  seemed  rather 
awestruck  at  the  speedy  issue  of  that  encounter. 
In  the  evening,  Captain  D'Hubert  finished  the 
congratulatory   letter   on   his   sister's   marriage. 

[80] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
He  finisiied  it  late.  It  was  a  long  letter.  Captain 
D'llubert  gave  reins  to  his  fancy.  He  told  his 
sister  he  would  feel  rather  lonely  after  this  great 
change  in  her  life.  But,  he  continued,  "  the  day 
will  come  for  me,  too,  to  get  married.  In  fact,  I 
am  thinking  already  of  the  time  when  there  will 
be  no  one  left  to  fight  in  Eui'ope,  and  the  epoch 
of  wars  will  be  over.  I  shall  expect  then  to  be 
within  measurable  distance  of  a  marshal's  baton 
and  you  will  be  an  experienced  married  woman. 
You  shall  look  out  a  nice  wife  for  me.  I  will  be 
moderately  bald  by  then,  and  a  little  blase ;  I  will 
require  a  young  girl — pretty,  of  coui'se,  and  with 
a  large  fortune,  you  know%  to  help  me  close  my 
glorious  career  wdth  the  splendour  befitting  my 
exalted  rank."  He  ended  with  the  information 
that  he  had  just  given  a  lesson  to  a  worrying, 
quarrelsome  fellow,  who  imagined  he  had  a 
grievance  against  him.  "  But  if  you,  in  the  depth 
of  your  province,"  he  continued,  "  ever  hear  it 
said  that  your  brother  is  of  a  quarrelsome  dispo- 
sition, don't  you  believe  it  on  any  account.  There 
is  no  saying  what  gossip  from  the  army  may 

[81] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

reach  your  innocent  ears;  whatever  you  hear, 
you  may  assure  our  father  that  your  ever  loving 
brother  is  not  a  duelhst."  Then  Captain  D'Hu- 
bert  crumpled  up  the  sheet  of  paper  with  the 
words,  "  This  is  my  last  will  and  testament," 
and  threw  it  in  the  fire  with  a  great  laugh  at 
himself.  He  didn't  care  a  snap  for  what  that 
lunatic  fellow  could  do.  He  had  suddenly  ac- 
quired the  conviction  that  this  man  was  utterly 
powerless  to  affect  his  life  in  any  sort  of  way, 
except,  perhaps,  in  the  way  of  putting  a  certain 
special  excitement  into  the  delightful  gay  inter- 
vals between  the  campaigns. 

From  this  on  there  were,  however,  to  be  no 
peaceful  intervals  in  the  career  of  Captain  D'Hu- 
bert.  He  saw  the  fields  of  Eylau  and  Friedland, 
marched  and  countermarched  in  the  snow,  the 
mud,  and  the  dust  of  Polish  plains,  picking  up 
distinction  and  advancement  on  all  the  roads  of 
northeastern  Europe.  Meantime,  Captain  Fe- 
raud,  despatched  southward  with  his  regiment, 
made  imsatisfactory  war  in  Spain.  It  was  only 
when  the  preparations  for  the  Russian  campaign 

[82] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
began  that  he  was  ordered  north  again.  He  left 
the  country  of  mantillas  and  oranges  without 
regret. 

The  first  signs  of  a  not  unbecoming  baldness 
added  to  the  lofty  aspect  of  Colonel  D'Hubert's 
forehead.  This  feature  was  no  longer  white  and 
smooth  as  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  and  the 
kindly  o})en  glance  of  his  blue  eyes  had  grown 
a  little  hard,  as  if  from  much  peering  through 
the  smoke  of  battles.  The  ebony  crop  on  Colonel 
Feraud's  head,  coarse  and  crinkly  like  a  cap  of 
horsehair,  showed  many  silver  threads  about  the 
temples.  A  detestable  warfare  of  ambushes  and 
inglorious  surprises  had  not  improved  his  temper. 
The  beaklike  curve  of  his  nose  was  unpleasantly 
set  off  by  deep  folds  on  each  side  of  his  mouth. 
The  round  orbits  of  his  eyes  radiated  fine  wrin- 
kles. INIore  than  ever  he  recalled  an  irritable  and 
staring  fowl — something  like  a  cross  between  a 
parrot  and  an  owl.  He  still  manifested  an  out- 
spoken dislike  for  "  intriguing  fellows."  He 
seized  every  opportunity  to  state  that  he  did  not 
pick  up  his  rank  in  the  anterooms  of  marshals. 

[83] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
The  unlucky  persons,  civil  or  military,  who,  with 
an  intention  of  being  pleasant,  begged  Colonel 
Feraud  to  tell  them  how  he  came  by  that  very  ap- 
parent scar  on  the  forehead,  were  astonished  to 
find  themselves  snubbed  in  various  ways,  some 
of  which  were  simply  rude  and  others  mysteri- 
ously sardonic.  Young  officers  were  warned 
kindly  by  their  more  experienced  comrades  not 
to  stare  openly  at  the  colonel's  scar.  But,  indeed, 
an  officer  need  have  been  very  young  in  his  pro- 
fession not  to  have  heard  the  legendary  tale  of 
that  duel  originating  in  some  mysterious,  unfor- 
givable offence. 


[84] 


Ill 


THE  retreat  from  JVIoscow  submerged  all 
private  feelings  in  a  sea  of  disaster 
and  misery.  Colonels  without  regiments, 
D'Hubert  and  Feraud  carried  the  musket  in  the 
ranks  of  the  sacred  battalion — a  battalion  re- 
cruited from  officers  of  all  arms  who  had  no 
longer  any  troops  to  lead. 

In  that  battahon  promoted  colonels  did  duty 
as  sergeants;  the  generals  captained  the  com- 
panies; a  marshal  of  France,  Prince  of  the  Em- 
pire, commanded  the  whole.  All  had  pro\dded 
themselves  with  muskets  picked  up  on  the  road, 
and  cartridges  taken  from  the  dead.  In  the  gen- 
eral destruction  of  the  bonds  of  discipline  and 
duty  holding  together  the  companies,  the  bat- 
talions, the  regiments,  the  brigades  and  divisions 
of  an  armed  host,  this  body  of  men  put  their 
pride   in   preserving   some   semblance   of   order 

[86] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

and  formation.  The  only  stragglers  were  those 
who  fell  out  to  give  up  to  the  frost  their 
exhausted  souls.  They  plodded  on  doggedly, 
stumbling  over  the  corpses  of  men,  the  carcasses 
of  horses,  the  fragments  of  gun-carriages,  cov- 
ered by  the  white  winding-sheet  of  the  great  dis- 
aster. Their  passage  did  not  disturb  the  mortal 
silence  of  the  plains,  shining  with  a  livid  light 
under  a  sky  the  colour  of  ashes.  Whirlwinds  of 
snow  ran  along  the  fields,  broke  against  the  dark 
column,  rose  in  a  turmoil  of  flying  icicles,  and 
subsided,  disclosing  it  creeping  on  without  the 
swing  and  rhythm  of  the  military  pace.  They 
struggled  onward,  exchanging  neither  words  nor 
looks — whole  ranks  marched,  touching  elbows, 
day  after  day,  and  never  raising  their  eyes,  as  if 
lost  in  despairing  reflections.  On  calm  days,  in 
the  dumb  black  forests  of  pines  the  cracking  of 
overloaded  branches  was  the  only  sound.  Often 
from  daybreak  to  dusk  no  one  spoke  in  the  whole 
column.  It  was  like  a  macabre  march  of  strug- 
gling corpses  towards  a  distant  grave.  Only  an 
alarm  of  Cossacks  could  restore  to  their  lack- 

[86] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
lustre  eyes  a  semblance  of  martial  resolution.  The 
battalion  deployed,  facing  about,  or  formed 
square  under  the  endless  fluttering  of  snowflakes. 
A  cloud  of  horsemen  with  fur  caps  on  their  heads, 
levelled  long  lances  and  j^elled  "  Hurrah!  Hur- 
rah! "  around  their  menacing  immobility,  whence, 
with  muffled  detonations,  hundreds  of  dark -red 
flames  darted  through  the  air  thick  with  falling 
snow.  In  a  very  few  moments  the  horsemen 
would  disappear,  as  if  carried  off  yelling  in  the 
gale,  and  the  battalion,  standing  still,  alone  in  the 
blizzard,  heard  only  the  wind  searching  their  verj^ 
hearts.  Then,  with  a  cry  or  tw^o  of  "  Vive  I'Em- 
pereur!  "  it  would  resume  its  march,  leaving  be- 
hind a  few  lifeless  bodies  lying  huddled  up,  tiny 
dark  specks  on  the  white  ground. 

Though  often  marching  in  the  ranks  or  skir- 
mishing in  the  woods  side  by  side,  the  two  offi- 
cers ignored  each  other;  this  not  so  much  from 
inimical  intention  as  from  a  very  real  indiffer- 
ence. All  their  store  of  moral  energy  was  ex- 
pended in  resisting  the  terrific  enmity  of  Nature 
and  the  crushing  sense  of  irretrievable  disaster. 

[87  1 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

Neither  of  them  allowed  himself  to  be  crushed. 
To  the  last  they  counted  among  the  most  ac- 
tive, the  least  demoralised  of  the  battalion;  their 
vigorous  vitality  invested  them  both  with  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  heroic  pair  in  the  eyes  of  their 
comrades.  And  they  never  exchanged  more  than 
a  casual  word  or  two,  except  one  day  when,  skir- 
mishing in  front  of  the  battalion  against  a  worry- 
ing attack  of  cavalry,  they  found  themselves  cut 
off  by  a  small  party  of  Cossacks.  A  score  of  wild- 
looking,  hairy  horsemen  rode  to  and  fro,  bran- 
dishing their  lances  in  ominous  silence.  The  two 
officers  had  no  mind  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and 
Colonel  Feraud  suddenly  spoke  up  in  a  hoarse, 
growling  voice,  bringing  his  firelock  to  the  shoul- 
der: 

"  You  take  the  nearest  brute,  Colonel  D'Hu- 
bert;  I'll  settle  the  next  one.  I  am  a  better  shot 
than  you  are." 

Colonel  D'Hubert  only  nodded  over  his 
levelled  musket.  Their  shoulders  were  pressed 
against  the  trunk  of  a  large  tree;  in  front,  deep 
snowdrifts  protected  them  from  a  direct  charge. 

[88] 


o  > 


<::i 


^' 


•^ 


You  take  the  nearest   brute.  Colonel  D'Hiibert  " 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
Two  carefully  aimed  shots  rang  out  in  the  frosty 
air,  two  Cossacks  reeled  in  their  saddles.  The 
rest,  not  thinking  the  game  good  enough,  closed 
round  their  wounded  comrades  and  galloped 
away  out  of  range.  The  two  officers  managed 
to  rejoin  their  battalion,  halted  for  tlie  night. 
During  that  afternoon  they  had  leaned  upon 
each  other  more  than  once,  and  towards  the  last 
Colonel  D'Hubert,  whose  long  legs  gave  him  an 
advantage  in  walking  through  soft  snow,  per- 
emptorily took  the  musket  from  Colonel  Feraud 
and  carried  it  on  his  shoulder,  using  his  own  as 
a  staff. 

On  the  outskirts  of  a  village,  half-buried 
in  the  snow,  an  old  wooden  barn  burned  with 
a  clear  and  immense  flame.  The  sacred  bat- 
talion of  skeletons  muffled  in  rags  crowded 
greedily  the  windward  side,  stretching  hundreds 
of  numbed,  bony  hands  to  the  blaze.  Nobody 
had  noted  their  approach.  Before  entering  the 
circle  of  light  playing  on  the  multitude  of  sunk- 
en, glassy-eyed,  starved  faces,  Colonel  D'Hubert 
spoke  in  his  turn : 

[89] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
"  Here's  your  firelock,  Colonel  Feraud.  I  can 
walk  better  than  you." 

Colonel  Feraud  nodded,  and  pushed  on  to- 
wards the  warmth  of  the  fierce  flames.  Colonel 
D' Hubert  was  more  deliberate,  but  not  the  less 
bent  on  getting  a  place  in  the  front  rank.  Those 
they  pushed  aside  tried  to  greet  with  a  faint 
cheer  the  reappearance  of  the  two  indomitable 
companions  in  activity  and  endurance.  Those 
manly  qualities  had  never,  perhaps,  received 
a  higher  tribute  than  this  feeble  acclamation. 

This  is  the  faithful  record  of  speeches  ex- 
changed during  the  retreat  from  Moscow  by 
Colonels  Feraud  and  D'Hubert.  Colonel  Fe- 
raud's  taciturnity  was  the  outcome  of  concen- 
trated rage.  Short,  hairy,  black-faced  with  layers 
of  grime,  and  a  thick  sprouting  of  a  wiry  beard,  a 
frost-bitten  hand,  wrapped  in  filthy  rags,  carried 
in  a  sling,  he  accused  fate  bitterly  of  unparalleled 
perfidy  towards  the  sublime  Man  of  Destiny. 
Colonel  D'Hubert,  his  long  moustache  pendent 
in  icicles  on  each  side  of  his  cracked  blue  lips,  his 
eyelids  inflamed  with  the  glare  of  snows,  the  prin- 

[90] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

cipal  part  of  his  costume  consisting  of  a  sheep- 
skin coat  looted  with  difficulty  from  the  frozen 
corpse  of  a  camp  follower  found  in  an  abandoned 
cart,  took  a  more  thoughtful  view  of  events.  His 
regularly  handsome  features  now  reduced  to  mere 
bony  lines  and  fleshless  hollows,  looked  out  of 
a  woman's  black  velvet  hood,  over  which  was 
rammed  forcibly  a  cocked  hat  picked  up  under 
the  wheels  of  an  empty  army  fourgon  which  must 
have  contained  at  one  time  some  general  officer's 
luggage.  The  sheepskin  coat  being  short  for  a 
man  of  his  inches,  ended  very  high  up  his  ele- 
gant person,  and  the  skin  of  his  legs,  blue  with 
the  cold,  showed  through  the  tatters  of  his  nether 
garments.  This,  under  the  circumstances,  pro- 
voked neither  jeers  nor  pity.  No  one  cared  how 
the  next  man  felt  or  looked.  Colonel  D'Hubert 
himself  hardened  to  exposure,  suffered  mainly  in 
his  self-respect  from  the  lamentable  indecency  of 
his  costume.  A  thoughtless  person  may  think  that 
with  a  whole  host  of  inanimate  bodies  bestrew- 
ing the  path  of  retreat  there  could  not  have  been 
much  difficulty  in  supplying  the  deficiency.  But 

[91] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
the  great  majority  of  these  bodies  lay  buried 
under  the  falls  of  snow,  others  had  been  already 
despoiled;  and  besides,  to  loot  a  pair  of  breeches 
from  a  frozen  corpse  is  not  so  easy  as  it  may 
appear  to  a  mere  theorist.  It  requires  time.  You 
must  remain  behind  while  your  companions 
march  on.  And  Colonel  D'Hubert  had  his 
scruples  as  to  falling  out.  They  arose  from  a 
point  of  honour,  and  also  a  little  from  dread. 
Once  he  stepped  aside  he  could  not  be  sure  of 
ever  rejoining  his  battalion.  And  the  enterprise 
demanded  a  physical  effort  from  which  his 
starved  body  shrank.  The  ghastly  intimacy  of  a 
wrestling  match  with  the  frozen  dead  opposing 
the  unyielding  rigidity  of  iron  to  yoiu-  violence 
was  repugnant  to  the  inborn  delicacy  of  his  feel- 
ings. 

Luckily,  one  day  grubbing  in  a  mound  of 
snow  between  the  huts  of  a  village  in  the  hope 
of  finding  there  a  frozen  potato  or  some  vege- 
table garbage  he  could  put  between  his  long  and 
shaky  teeth,  Colonel  D'Hubert  uncovered  a  cou- 
ple of  mats  of  the  sort  Russian  peasants  use  to 

[92] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
line  the  sides  of  their  carts.  These,  shaken  free 
of  frozen  snow,  bent  about  his  person  and  fas- 
tened sohdly  round  his  waist,  made  a  bell-shaped 
nether  garment,  a  sort  of  stiff  petticoat,  render- 
ing Colonel  D' Hubert  a  perfectly  decent  but  a 
much  more  noticeable  figure  tlian  before. 

Thus  accoutred  he  continued  to  retreat,  never 
doubting  of  his  personal  escaj^e  but  full  of  other 
misgivings.  The  early  buoyancy  of  his  belief  in 
the  future  was  destroyed.  If  the  road  of  glory 
led  through  such  unforeseen  passages — he  asked 
Iiimself,  for  he  was  reflective,  whether  the  guide 
was  altogether  trustworthy.  And  a  patriotic  sad- 
ness not  unmingled  with  some  personal  concern, 
altogether  unlike  the  unreasoning  indignation 
against  men  and  things  nursed  by  Colonel 
Feraud,  oppressed  the  equable  spirits  of  Colonel 
D 'Hubert.  Recruiting  his  strength  in  a  little 
German  town  for  three  weeks,  he  was  surprised 
to  discover  within  himself  a  love  of  repose.  His 
returning  vigour  was  strangely  pacific  in  its  as- 
pirations. He  meditated  silently  upon  that  bi- 
zarre change  of  mood.  No  doubt  many  of  his 

[93] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
brother  officers  of  field  rank  had  the  same  per- 
sonal experience.  But  these  were  not  the  times 
to  talk  of  it.  In  one  of  his  letters  home  Colonel 
D'Hubert  wrote:  "  All  your  plans,  my  dear  Le- 
onie,  of  marrying  me  to  the  charming  girl  you 
have  discovered  in  your  neighbourhood,  seem 
farther  off  than  ever.  Peace  is  not  yet.  Europe 
wants  another  lesson.  It  will  be  a  hard  task  for 
us,  but  it  will  be  done  well,  because  the  emperor 
is  invincible." 

Thus  wrote  Colonel  D'Hubert  from  Pomerania 
to  his  married  sister  Leonie,  settled  in  the  south 
of  France.  And  so  far  the  sentiments  expressed 
would  not  have  been  disowned  by  Colonel  Fe- 
raud  who  wrote  no  letters  to  anybody;  whose 
father  had  been  in  life  an  illiterate  blacksmith; 
who  had  no  sister  or  brother,  and  whom  no  one 
desired  ardently  to  pair  off  for  a  life  of  peace 
with  a  charming  young  girl.  But  Colonel  D' Hu- 
bert's letter  contained  also  some  philosophical 
generalities  upon  the  uncertainty  of  all  personal 
hopes  if  boimd  up  entirely  with  the  prestigious 
fortune  of  one  incomparably  great,  it  is  true,  yet 

[94] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

still  remaining  but  a  man  in  his  greatness.  This 
sentiment  would  have  appeared  rank  heresy  to 
Colonel  Feraud.  Some  melancholy  forebodings 
of  a  military  kind  expressed  cautiously  would 
have  been  pronounced  as  nothing  short  of  high 
treason  by  Colonel  Feraud.  But  Leonie,  the  sis- 
ter of  Colonel  D 'Hubert,  read  them  with  posi- 
tive satisfaction,  and  folding  the  letter  tliought- 
fully  remarked  to  herself  that  "  Armand  was 
likely  to  j^rove  eventually  a  sensible  fellow." 
Since  her  marriage  into  a  Southern  family  she 
had  become  a  convinced  believer  in  the  return  of 
the  legitimate  king.  Hopeful  and  anxious  she 
offered  prayers  night  and  morning,  and  burned 
candles  in  churches  for  the  safety  and  prosperity 
of  her  brother. 

She  had  everj^  reason  to  suppose  that  her 
prayers  were  heard.  Colonel  D'Hubert  passed 
through  lAitzen,  Bautzen,  and  Leipsic,  losing 
no  limbs  and  acquiring  additional  reputation. 
Adapting  his  conduct  to  the  needs  of  that  des- 
perate time,  he  had  never  voiced  his  misgivings. 
He  concealed  them  under  a  cheerful  courtesy 

[  95  ] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
of  such  pleasant  character  that  people  were 
inclined  to  ask  themselves  with  wonder  whether 
Colonel  D 'Hubert  was  aware  of  any  disasters. 
Not  only  his  manners  but  even  his  glances 
remained  untroubled.  The  steady  amenity  of 
his  blue  eyes  disconcerted  all  grumblers,  si- 
lenced doleful  remarks,  and  made  even  despair 
pause. 

This  bearing  was  remarked  at  last  by  the  em- 
peror himself,  for  Colonel  D 'Hubert,  attached 
now  to  the  Major-General's  staff,  came  on 
several  occasions  under  the  imperial  eye.  But 
it  exasperated  the  higher  strung  nature  of 
Colonel  Feraud.  Passing  through  Magdeburg 
on  service  this  last  allowed  himself,  while 
seated  gloomily  at  dinner  with  the  Commandant 
de  Place,  to  say  of  his  lifelong  adversary: 
"  This  man  does  not  love  the  emperor  " — and 
as  his  words  were  received  in  profound  silence 
Colonel  Feraud,  troubled  in  his  conscience  at 
the  atrocity  of  the  aspersion,  felf  the  need 
to  back  it  up  by  a  good  argument.  "  I  ought 
to    know    him,"    he    said,    adding    some    oaths. 

[96] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
"  One  studies  one's  adversarj'.  I  have  met  him 
on  the  ground  half  a  dozen  times,  as  all  the 
army  knows.  What  more  do  you  want?  If  that 
isn't  opj^ortunity  enough  for  any  fool  to  size  up 
his  man,  may  the  devil  take  me  if  I  can  tell  what 
is."  And  he  looked  aromid  the  table  with  sombre 
obstinacy.  f 

Later  on,  in  Paris,  while  feverishly  busy  reor- 
ganising his  regiment,  Colonel  Feraud  learned 
that  Colonel  D 'Hubert  had  been  made  a  gen- 
eral. He  glared  at  his  informant  incredulously, 
then  folded  his  arms  and  turned  away  mut- 
tering: 

"  Nothing  surprises  me  on  the  part  of  that 


man." 


And  aloud  he  added,  speaking  over  his  shoul- 
der: "You  would  greatly  obhge  me  by  telling 
General  D 'Hubert  at  the  first  opportunity  that 
his  advancement  saves  him  for  a  time  from  a 
pretty  hot  encounter.  I  was  only  waiting  for  him 
to  turn  up  here." 

The  other  officer  remonstrated. 

"  Could  you  think  of  it,  Colonel  Feraud !  At 

[97] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
this  time  when  every  Hfe  should  be  consecrated 
to  the  glory  and  safety  of  France!  " 

But  the  strain  of  unhappiness  caused  by  mili- 
tary reverses  had  spoiled  Colonel  Feraud's  char- 
acter. Like  many  other  men  he  was  rendered 
wicked  by  misfortune. 

"  I  cannot  consider  General  D' Hubert's  per- 
son of  any  account  either  for  the  glory  or  safety 
of  France,"  he  snapped  viciously.  "  You  don't 
pretend,  perhaps,  to  know  him  better  than  I  do 
— who  have  been  with  him  half  a  dozen  times  on 
the  ground — do  you?  " 

His  interlocutor,  a  young  man,  was  silenced. 
Colonel  Feraud  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  This  is  not  a  time  to  mince  matters,"  he  said. 
"  I  can't  believe  that  that  man  ever  loved  the  em- 
peror. He  picked  up  his  general's  stars  under  the 
boots  of  Marshal  Berthier.  Very  well.  I'll  get 
mine  in  another  fashion,  and  then  we  shall  settle 
this  business  which  has  been  dragging  on  too 
long." 

General  D 'Hubert,  informed  indirectly  of 
Colonel  Feraud's  attitude,  made  a   gesture  as 

[98] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
if  to  put  aside  an  importunate  person.  His 
thoughts  were  soHcited  by  graver  cares.  He  had 
had  no  time  to  go  and  see  his  familj^  His  sister, 
whose  royahst  hopes  were  rising  higher  every 
day,  though  proud  of  her  brother,  regretted  his 
recent  advancement  in  a  measure,  because  it 
put  on  him  a  prominent  mark  of  the  usurper's 
favour  which  later  on  could  have  an  adverse  in- 
fluence upon  his  career.  He  wrote  to  her  that  no 
one  but  an  inveterate  enemy  could  saj'^  he  had 
got  his  promotion  by  favour.  As  to  his  career  he 
assured  her  that  he  looked  no  farther  forward 
into  the  future  than  the  next  battlefield. 

Beginning  the  campaign  of  France  in  that 
state  of  mind,  General  D'Hubert  was  wounded 
on  the  second  day  of  the  battle  under  Laon. 
While  being  carried  off  the  field  he  heard  that 
Colonel  Feraud,  promoted  that  moment  to 
general,  had  been  sent  to  replace  him  in  the  com- 
mand of  his  brigade.  He  cursed  his  luck  impul- 
sively, not  being  able,  at  the  first  glance,  to  dis- 
cern all  the  advantages  of  a  nasty  wound.  And 
yet  it  was  by  this  heroic  method  that  Providence 

[99] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

was  shaping-  his  future.  TravelHng  slowly  south 
to  his  sister's  country  house,  under  the  care 
of  a  trusty  old  servant,  General  D' Hubert  was 
spared  the  humiliating  contacts  and  the  perplex- 
ities of  conduct  which  assailed  the  men  of  the  Na- 
poleonic empire  at  the  moment  of  its  downfall. 
Lying  in  his  bed  with  the  windows  of  his  room 
open  wide  to  the  sunshine  of  Provence,  he  per- 
ceived at  last  the  undisguised  aspect  of  the  bless- 
ing- conveyed  by  that  jagged  fragment  of  a 
Prussian  shell  which,  killing  his  horse  and  rip- 
ping open  his  thigh,  saved  him  from  an  active 
conflict  with  his  conscience.  After  fourteen  years 
spent  sword  in  hand  in  the  saddle  and  strong  in 
the  sense  of  his  duty  done  to  the  end.  General 
D'Hubert  found  resignation  an  easy  virtue.  His 
sister  was  delighted  with  his  reasonableness.  "  I 
leave  myself  altogether  in  your  hands,  my  dear 
Leonie,"  he  had  said. 

He  was  still  laid  up  when,  the  credit  of  his 
brother-in-law's  family  being  exerted  on  his  be- 
half, he  received  from  the  Royal  Government 
not  only  the  confirmation  of  his  rank  but  the  as- 

[  100  ] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
surance  of  being  retained  on  the  active  list.  To 
this  was  added  an  unlimited  convalescent  leave. 
The  unfavourable  opinion  entertained  of  him 
in  the  more  irreconcilable  Bonapartist  circles, 
though  it  rested  on  nothing  more  solid  than  the 
unsupported  pronouncement  of  General  Feraud, 
was  directly  responsible  for  General  D 'Hubert's 
retention  on  the  active  list.  As  to  General 
Feraud,  his  rank  was  confirmed,  too.  It  was 
more  than  he  dared  to  expect,  but  ^larshal 
Soult,  then  IMinister  of  War  to  the  restored 
king,  was  partial  to  officers  who  had  served  in 
Spain.  Only  not  even  the  marshal's  protection 
could  secure  for  him  active  employment.  He  re- 
mained irreconcilable,  idle  and  sinister,  seeking 
in  obscure  restaurants  the  company  of  other 
half-pay  officers,  who  cherished  dingy  but  glo- 
rious old  tricolour  cockades  in  their  breast  pock- 
ets, and  buttoned  with  the  forbidden  eagle  but- 
tons their  shabby  uniform,  declaring  themselves 
too  poor  to  afford  the  expense  of  the  prescribed 
change. 

The  triumphant  return  of  the  emperor,  a  his- 

[101] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

topical  fact  as  marvellous  and  incredible  as  the 
exploits  of  some  mythological  demi-god,  found 
General  D' Hubert  still  quite  unable  to  sit  a 
horse.  Neither  could  he  Malk  very  well.  These 
disabilities,  which  his  sister  thought  most  lucky, 
helped  her  immensely  to  keep  her  brother  out  of 
all  possible  mischief.  His  frame  of  mind  at  that 
time,  she  noted  with  dismay,  became  very  far 
from  reasonable.  That  general  officer,  still  men- 
aced by  the  loss  of  a  limb,  was  discovered  one 
night  in  the  stables  of  the  chateau  by  a  groom 
who,  seeing  a  light,  raised  an  alarm  of  thieves. 
His  crutch  was  lying  half  buried  in  the  straw  of 
the  litter,  and  he  himself  was  hopping  on  one  leg 
in  a  loose  box  around  a  snorting  horse  he  was  try- 
ing to  saddle.  Such  were  the  effects  of  imperial 
magic  upon  an  unenthusiastic  temperament  and 
a  pondered  mind.  Beset,  in  the  light  of  stable 
lanterns,  by  the  tears,  entreaties,  indignation,  re- 
monstrances and  reproaches  of  his  family,  he 
got  out  of  the  difficult  situation  by  fainting  away 
there  and  then  in  the  arms  of  his  nearest  relatives, 
and  was  carried  off  to  bed.  Before  he  got  out  of 

[  102] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

it  again  the  second  reign  of  Napoleon,  the  Ilnn- 
dred  Days  of  feverish  agitation  and  supreme 
effort  i^assed  away  like  a  terrifying  dream.  The 
tragic  year  1815,  begun  in  the  trouble  and  un- 
rest of  consciences,  was  ending  in  vengeful  pro- 
scriptions. 

How  General  Feraud  escaped  the  clutches 
of  the  Special  Commission  and  the  last  offices 
of  a  firing  squad,  he  never  knew  himself.  It 
was  partly  due  to  the  subordinate  position  he 
was  assigned  during  the  Hundred  Days.  He 
was  not  given  active  command  but  was  kept 
busy  at  the  cavalry  depot  in  Paris,  mounting 
and  despatching  hastily  drilled  troopers  into  the 
field.  Considering  this  task  as  unworthy  of  his 
abilities,  he  discharged  it  with  no  offensively  no- 
ticeable zeal.  But  for  the  greater  part  he  was 
saved  from  the  excesses  of  royalist  reaction  by 
the  interference  of  General  D 'Hubert. 

This  last,  still  on  convalescent  leave  but  able 
now  to  travel,  had  been  despatched  by  his  sister 
to  Paris  to  present  himself  to  his  legitimate  sov- 
ereign. As  no  one  in  the  capital  could  possibly 

[103] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
know  an}i:hing"  of  the  episode  in  the  stable, 
he  was  received  there  with  distinction.  jMihtary 
to  the  verj^  bottom  of  his  soul,  the  prospect  of 
rising  in  his  profession  consoled  him  from  find- 
ing himself  the  butt  of  Bonapartist  malevolence 
which  pursued  him  with  a  persistence  he  could 
not  account  for.  All  the  rancour  of  that  embit- 
tered and  persecuted  party  pointed  to  him  as 
the  man  who  had  never  loved  the  emperor — a 
sort  of  monster  essentially  worse  than  a  mere 
betrayer. 

General  D 'Hubert  shrugged  his  shoulders 
mthout  anger  at  this  ferocious  prejudice.  Re- 
jected by  his  old  friends  and  mistrusting  pro- 
foundly the  advances  of  royalist  society,  the 
young  and  handsome  general  (he  was  barely 
forty)  adopted  a  manner  of  punctilious  and  cold 
courtesy  which  at  the  merest  shadow  of  an  in- 
tended slight  passed  easily  into  harsh  haughti- 
ness. Thus  prepared.  General  D'Hubert  went 
about  his  affairs  in  Paris  feeling  inwardly  very 
happy  with  the  peculiar  uplifting  happiness  of 
a  man  very  much  in  love.  The  charming  girl 

[104] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
looked  out  by  his  sister  had  come  upon  the  scene 
and  had  conquered  him  in  the  thorough  manner 
in  which  a  young  girl,  by  merely  existing  in 
his  sight,  can  make  a  man  of  forty  her  own. 
They  were  going  to  be  married  as  soon  as  Gen- 
eral D 'Hubert  had  obtained  his  official  nomina- 
tion to  a  promised  command. 

One  afternoon,  sitting  on  the  terrassc  of  the 
Cafe  Tortoni,  General  D'Hubert  learned  from 
the  conversation  of  two  strangers  occupying  a 
table  near  his  own  that  General  Feraud,  included 
in  the  batch  of  superior  officers  arrested  after  tlie 
second  return  of  the  king,  was  in  danger  of  pass- 
ing before  the  Special  Commission.  Living  all  his 
spare  moments,  as  is  frequently  the  case  with  ex- 
pectant lo\'ers  a  day  in  advance  of  reality,  as  it 
were,  and  in  a  state  of  bestarred  hallucination,  it 
required  nothing  less  than  the  name  of  his  per- 
petual antagonist  pronounced  in  a  loud  voice  to 
call  the  youngest  of  Napoleon's  generals  away 
from  the  mental  contemplation  of  his  betrothed. 
He  looked  round.  The  strangers  wore  civilian 
clothes.  Lean  and  weather-beaten,  lolling  back 

[105] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

in  their  chairs,  they  looked  at  people  with  moody 
and  defiant  abstraction  from  under  their  hats 
pulled  low  over  their  eyes.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
recognise  them  for  two  of  the  compulsorily  re- 
tired officers  of  the  Old  Guard.  As  from  bravado 
or  carelessness  they  chose  to  speak  in  loud  tones, 
General  D 'Hubert,  who  saw  no  reason  why  he 
should  change  his  seat,  heard  every  word.  They 
did  not  seem  to  be  the  personal  friends  of  Gen- 
eral Feraud.  His  name  came  up  with  some  others; 
and  hearing  it  repeated  General  D' Hubert's  ten- 
der anticipations  of  a  domestic  future  adorned  by 
a  woman's  grace  were  traversed  by  the  harsh  re- 
gret of  that  warlike  past,  of  that  one  long,  intox- 
icating clash  of  arms,  unique  in  the  magnitude  of 
its  glory  and  disaster — the  marvellous  work  and 
the  special  possession  of  his  own  generation.  He 
felt  an  irrational  tenderness  toward  his  old  adver- 
sary, and  appreciated  emotionally  the  murder- 
ous absurdity  their  encounter  had  introduced 
into  his  life.  It  was  like  an  additional  pinch  of 
spice  in  a  hot  dish.  He  remembered  the  flavour 
with  sudden  melancholy.  He  would  never  taste 

[106] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
it  again.  It  was  all  over.  ..."  I  fancy  it  was 
being  left  lying  in  the  garden  that  had  exas- 
perated  him   so   against   me,"    he   thought    in- 
dulgently. 

The  two  strangers  at  the  next  table  had  fallen 
silent  upon  the  third  mention  of  General  Fe- 
raud's  name.  Presently,  the  oldest  of  the  two, 
speaking  in  a  bitter  tone,  affirmed  that  General 
Feraud's  account  was  settled.  And  v.hy?  Sim- 
ply because  he  was  not  like  some  big-wigs  who 
loved  only  themselves.  The  royalists  knew  that 
they  coidd  never  make  an}i:hing  of  him.  He 
loved  the  Other  too  well. 

The  Other  was  the  man  of  St.  Helena.  The 
two  officers  nodded  and  touched  glasses  before 
they  drank  to  an  impossible  return.  Then  the 
same  who  had  spoken  before  remarked  with  a 
sardonic  little  laugh: 

"  His  adversary  showed  more  cleverness." 

*' "\\Tiat  adversary?"  asked  the  younger  as  if 
puzzled. 

"  Don't  you  know?  They  were  two  Hussars. 
At  each  promotion  they  fought  a  duel.  Haven't 

[107] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
you  heard  of  the  duel  that  is  going  on  since 
1801?" 

His  friend  had  heard  of  the  duel,  of  course. 
Now  he  understood  the  allusion.  General  Baron 
D'Hubert  would  be  able  now  to  enjoy  his  fat 
king's  favour  in  peace. 

"  Much  good  may  it  do  to  him,"  mumbled  the 
elder.  "  They  were  both  brave  men.  I  never  saw 
this  D'Hubert — a  sort  of  intriguing  dandy,  I 
understand.  But  I  can  well  beheve  what  I've 
heard  Feraud  say  once  of  him — that  he  never 
loved  the  emperor." 

They  rose  and  went  away. 

General  D'Hubert  experienced  the  horror  of 
a  somnambulist  who  wakes  up  from  a  complacent 
dream  of  activity  to  find  himself  walking  on  a 
quagmire.  A  profound  disgust  of  the  ground  on 
which  he  was  making  his  way  overcame  him. 
Even  the  image  of  the  charming  girl  was  swept 
from  his  view  in  the  flood  of  moral  distress. 
Everything  he  had  ever  been  or  hoped  to  be 
would  be  lost  in  ignominy  unless  he  could  man- 
age to  save  General  Feraud  from  the  fate  which 

[108] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

threatened  so  many  braves.  Under  the  impulse  of 
this  almost  morbid  need  to  attend  to  the  safety  of 
his  adversary  General  D'Hubert  worked  so  well 
with  hands  and  feet  (as  the  French  saying  is) 
that  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  he  found 
means  of  obtaining  an  extraordinaiy  private  au- 
dience from  the  INIinister  of  Police. 

General  Baron  D'Hubert  was  shown  in  sud- 
denly without  preliminaries.  In  the  dusk  of  the 
minister's  cabinet,  behind  the  shadowy  forms  of 
writing  desk,  chairs,  and  tables,  between  two 
bunches  of  wax  candles  blazing  in  sconces,  he  be- 
held a  figure  in  a  splendid  coat  posturing  before 
a  tall  mirror.  The  old  Conventionel  Fouche,  ex- 
senator  of  the  empire,  traitor  to  every  man, 
every  principle  and  motive  of  human  conduct, 
Duke  of  Otranto,  and  the  wily  artisan  of  the 
Second  Restoration,  was  trying  the  fit  of  a  court 
suit,  in  which  his  young  and  accomplished  fian- 
cee had  declared  her  wish  to  have  his  portrait 
painted  on  porcelain.  It  was  a  caprice,  a  charm- 
ing fancy  which  the  INIinister  of  Police  of  the 
Second  Restoration  was  anxious  to  gratify.  For 

[109] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
that  man,  often  compared  in  wiliness  of  intellect 
to  a  fox  but  whose  ethical  side  could  be  worthily 
symbohsed  by  nothing  less  emphatic  than  a 
skunk,  was  as  much  possessed  by  his  love  as  Gen- 
eral D' Hubert  himself. 

Startled  to  be  discovered  thus  by  the  blunder 
of  a  servant,  he  met  this  little  vexation  with  the 
characteristic  effrontery  which  had  served  his 
turn  so  well  in  the  endless  intrigues  of  his  self- 
seeking  career.  Without  altering  his  attitude  a 
hair's  breadth,  one  leg  in  a  silk  stocking  ad- 
vanced, his  head  twisted  over  his  left  shoulder, 
he  called  out  calmly : 

"  This  way,  general.  Pray  approach.  Well?  I 
am  all  attention." 

While  General  D'Hubert,  as  ill  at  ease  as  if 
one  of  his  own  little  weaknesses  had  been  ex- 
posed, presented  his  request  as  shortly  as  possible, 
the  minister  went  on  feeling  the  fit  of  his  collar, 
settling  the  lappels  before  the  glass  or  buckling 
his  back  in  his  efforts  to  behold  the  set  of  the 
gold-embroidered  coat  skirts  behind.  His  still 
face,  his  attentive  eyes,  could  not  have  expressed 

[110] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
a  more  complete  interest  in  those  matters  if  he 
had  been  alone. 

"  Exclude  from  the  operations  of  the  Special 
Commission  a  certain  Feraud,  Gabriel  Flori- 
an.  General  of  Brigade  of  the  promotion  of 
1814?  "  he  repeated  in  a  slightly  wondering  tone 
and  then  turned  away  from  the  glass.  "  Why  ex- 
clude him  precisely? " 

"  I  am  surprised  that  your  Excellency,  so 
competent  in  the  valuation  of  men  of  his  time, 
should  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  have  that 
name  put  down  on  the  list." 

"  A  rabid  Bonapartist." 

"  So  is  every  grenadier  and  every  trooper  of 
the  army,  as  your  Excellency  well  knows.  And 
the  individuality  of  General  Feraud  can  have 
no  more  weight  than  that  of  any  casual  gren- 
adier. He  is  a  man  of  no  mental  grasp,  of  no 
capacity  whatever.  It  is  inconceivable  that  he 
should  ever  have  any  influence." 

"  He  has  a  well-hung  tongue  though,"  inter- 
jected Fouche." 

"  Noisy,  I  admit,  but  not  dangerous." 

[Ill  J 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  I  will  not  dispute  with  you.  I  know  next  to 
nothing  of  him.  Hardly  his  name  in  fact." 

"  And  yet  your  Excellency  had  the  presidency 
of  the  commission  charged  by  the  king  to  point 
out  those  who  were  to  be  tried,"  said  General 
D' Hubert  with  an  emphasis  which  did  not  miss 
the  minister's  ear. 

"  Yes,  general,"  he  said,  walking  away  into 
the  dark  part  of  the  vast  room  and  throwing 
himself  into  a  high-backed  armchair  whose  over- 
shadowed depth  swallowed  him  up,  all  but  the 
gleam  of  gold  embroideries  on  the  coat  and  the 
palhd  patch  of  the  face.  "  Yes,  general.  Take 
that  chair  there." 

General  D' Hubert  sat  down. 

"  Yes,  general,"  continued  the  arch-master 
in  the  arts  of  intrigue  and  betrayal,  whose  du- 
plicity as  if  at  times  intolerable  to  his  self- 
knowledge  worked  itself  off  in  bursts  of  cynical 
openness.  "  I  did  hurry  on  the  formation  of  the 
proscribing  commission  and  took  its  presidency. 
And  do  you  know  why?  Simply  from  fear  that  if 
I  did  not  take  it  quickly  into  my  hands  my  own 

[112] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
name  would  head  the  hst  of  the  proscribed.  Such 
are  the  times  in  which  we  hve.  But  I  am  minister 
of  the  king  as  yet,  and  I  ask  you  plainly  why 
I  should  take  the  name  of  this  obscure  Feraud 
off  the  list  ?  You  wonder  how  his  name  got  there. 
Is  it  possible  that  you  know  men  so  little?  JNIy 
dear  general,  at  the  very  first  sitting  of  the  com- 
mission names  poured  on  us  like  rain  off  the 
tiles  of  the  Tuileries.  Names!  We  had  our 
choice  of  thousands.  How  do  you  know  that  the 
name  of  this  Feraud,  whose  life  or  death  don't 
matter  to  France,  does  not  keep  out  some  other 
name?  .  .  ." 

The  voice  out  of  the  armchair  stopped.  Gen- 
eral D 'Hubert  sat  still,  shadowy,  and  silent. 
Only  his  sabre  clinked  slightly.  The  voice  in 
the  armchair  began  again.  "  And  we  must  try 
to  satisfy  the  exigencies  of  the  allied  sovereigns. 
The  Prince  de  Talleyrand  told  me  only  yes- 
terday that  Xesselrode  had  informed  him  of- 
ficially that  his  Majesty,  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander, was  very  disappointed  at  the  small  number 
of  examples  the  government  of  the  king  intends 

[113] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
to  make — especially   amongst  military  men.   I 
tell  you  this  confidentially." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  broke  out  General  D'Hu- 
bert,  speaking  through  his  teeth,  "  if  your  Ex- 
cellency deigns  to  favour  me  with  any  more  con- 
fidential information  I  don't  know  what  I  will 
do.  It's  enough  to  make  one  break  one's  sword 
over  one's  knee  and  fling  the  pieces  ..." 

"  What  government  do  you  imagine  your- 
self to  be  serving? "  interrupted  the  minister 
sharply.  After  a  short  pause  the  crestfallen  voice 
of  General  D'Hubert  answered: 

"  The  government  of  France." 

"  That's  paying  your  conscience  off  with  mere 
words,  general.  The  truth  is  that  you  are  serving 
a  government  of  returned  exiles,  of  men  who 
have  been  without  country  for  twenty  years.  Of 
men  also  who  have  just  got  over  a  very  bad  and 
humiliating  fright.  .  .  .  Have  no  illusions  on 
that  score." 

The  Duke  of  Otranto  ceased.  He  had  relieved 
himself,  and  had  attained  his  object  of  strip- 
ping some  self-respect  off  that  man  who  had  in- 

[114] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
conveniently  discovered  him  posturing  in  a  gold- 
embroidered  court  costume  before  a  mirror.  But 
they  were  a  hot-headed  lot  in  tlie  army,  and  it 
occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be  inconvenient 
if  a  well-disposed  general  officer,  received  by  him 
on  the  recommendation  of  one  of  tlie  princes, 
were  to  go  and  do  something  rashly  scandalous 
directly  after  a  private  interview  with  the  min- 
ister. In  a  changed  voice  he  put  a  question  to  the 
point : 

"  Your  relation — this  Feraud?  " 

"  No.  No  relation  at  all." 

"  Intimate  friend? " 

"  Intimate  .  .  .  yes.  There  is  between  us  an 
intimate  connection  of  a  nature  which  makes  it 
a  point  of  honour  with  me  to  try  ..." 

The  minister  rang  a  bell  without  waiting  for 
the  end  of  the  phrase.  When  the  servant  had 
gone,  after  bringing  in  a  pair  of  heavy  silver  can- 
delabra for  the  writing  desk,  the  Duke  of  Otranto 
stood  up,  his  breast  glistening  all  over  with 
gold  in  the  strong  Hght,  and  taking  a  piece  of 
paper  out  of  a  drawer  lield  it  in  his  hand  osten- 

[115] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

tatiously  while  he  said  with  persuasive  gentle- 
ness: 

"  You  must  not  talk  of  breaking  your  sword 
across  your  knee,  general.  Perhaps  you  would 
never  get  another.  The  emperor  shall  not  return 
this  time.  .  .  .  Diahle  d'homme!  There  was  just 
a  moment  here  in  Paris,  soon  after  Waterloo, 
when  he  frightened  me.  It  looked  as  though  he 
were  going  to  begin  again.  Luckily  one  never 
does  begin  again  really.  You  must  not  think  of 
breaking  your  sword,  general." 

General  D 'Hubert,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  made  with  his  hand  a  hopeless  gesture 
of  renunciation.  The  Minister  of  Police  turned 
his  eyes  away  from  him  and  began  to  scan  de- 
liberately the  paper  he  had  been  holding  up  all 
the  time. 

"  There  are  only  twenty  general  officers  to  be 
brought  before  the  Special  Commission.  Twenty. 
A  round  number.  And  let's  see,  Feraud.  Ah,  he's 
there!  Gabriel  Florian.  Parfaitement.  That's 
your  man.  Well,  there  will  be  only  nineteen  ex- 
amples made  now." 

[116] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

General  D'Hubert  stood  up  feeling  as  though 
he  had  gone  through  an  infectious  illness. 

"  I  must  beg  your  Excellency  to  keep  my  in- 
terference a  profound  secret.  I  attach  the  great- 
est importance  to  his  never  knowing  .  .  ." 

"  Who  is  going  to  inform  him  I  should  like 
to  know,"  said  Fouche,  raising  his  eyes  curiously 
to  General  D'Hubert's  white  face.  "  Take  one 
of  these  pens  and  run  it  through  the  name 
yourself.  This  is  the  only  list  in  existence. 
If  you  are  careful  to  take  up  enough  ink  no 
one  will  be  able  to  tell  even  what  was  the  name 
thus  stiaick  out.  But,  par  example,  I  am  not  re- 
sponsible for  what  Clarke  will  do  with  him.  If 
he  persist  in  being  rabid  he  will  be  ordered 
by  the  Minster  of  War  to  reside  in  some 
provincial  town  under  the  supenision  of  the 
police." 

A  few  days  later  General  D'Hubert  was  say- 
ing to  his  sister  after  the  first  greetings  had 
been  got  over: 

"All,  my  dear  Leoniel  It  seemed  to  me  I 
couldn't  get  away  from  Paris  quick  enough." 

[117] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  Effect  of  love,"  she  suggested  with  a  ma- 
licious smile. 

"  Aiid  horror,"  added  General  D'Hubert  with 
profound  seriousness.  "  I  have  nearly  died  there 
of  ...  of  nausea." 

His  face  was  contracted  with  disgust.  And  as 
his  sister  looked  at  him  attentively  he  continued: 

"  I  have  had  to  see  Fouche.  I  have  had  an  audi- 
ence. I  have  been  in  his  cabinet.  There  remains 
with  one,  after  the  misfortune  of  having  to 
breathe  the  air  of  the  same  room  with  that  man, 
a  sense  of  diminished  dignity,  the  uneasy  feeling 
of  being  not  so  clean  after  all  as  one  hoped  one 
was.  .  .  .  But  you  can't  understand." 

She  nodded  quickly  several  times.  She  under- 
stood very  well  on  the  contrary.  She  knew  her 
])rother  thoroughly  and  liked  him  as  he  was. 
Moreover,  the  scorn  and  loathing  of  mankind 
were  the  lot  of  the  Jacobin  Fouche,  who,  exploit- 
ing for  his  own  advantage  every  weakness,  every 
virtue,  every  generous  illusion  of  mankind,  made 
dupes  of  his  whole  generation  and  died  obscurely 
as  Duke  of  Otraiito. 

[118] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
"  My  dear  Armand,"  she  said  compassionately, 
"  what  could  you  want  from  that  man?  " 

"  Nothing  less  than  a  life,"  answered  General 
D'Hubert.  "  And  I've  got  it.  It  had  to  be  done. 
But  I  feel  jxt  as  if  I  could  never  forgive  the 
necessity  to  the  man  I  had  to  save." 

General  Feraud,  totally  unable  as  is  the  case 
with  most  men  to  comprehend  what  was  happen- 
ing to  him,  received  the  INIinister  of  War's  or- 
der to  proceed  at  once  to  a  small  town  of  Central 
France  with  feelings  whose  natural  expression 
consisted  in  a  fierce  rolling  of  the  eye  and  sav- 
age grinding  of  the  teeth.  But  he  went.  The 
bewilderment  and  awe  at  the  passuig  away  of  the 
state  of  war — the  only  condition  of  society  he  had 
ever  known — the  prospect  of  a  world  at  peace 
frightened  him.  He  went  away  to  his  httle  town 
firmly  persuaded  that  this  could  not  last.  There 
he  was  informed  of  his  retirement  from  the  army, 
and  that  his  pension  (calculated  on  the  scale  of  a 
colonel's  half -pay)  was  made  dependent  on  the 
circumspection  of  his  conduct  and  on  the  good 
reports  of  the  police.  No  longer  in  the  army !  He 

[119] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
felt  suddenly  a  stranger  to  the  earth  like  a  dis- 
embodied spirit.  It  was  impossible  to  exist.  But 
at  first  he  reacted  from  sheer  incredulity.  This 
could  not  be.  It  could  not  last.  The  heavens 
would  fall  presently.  He  called  upon  thimder, 
earthquakes,  natural  cataclysms.  But  nothing 
happened.  The  leaden  weight  of  an  irremediable 
idleness  descended  upon  General  Feraud,  who, 
having  no  resources  within  himself,  sank  into 
a  state  of  awe-inspiring  hebetude.  He  haunted 
the  streets  of  the  little  town  gazing  before  him 
with  lack-lustre  eyes,  disregarding  the  hats 
raised  on  his  passage;  and  the  people,  nudging 
each  other  as  he  went  by,  said :  "  That's  poor 
General  Feraud.  His  heart  is  broken.  Behold 
how  he  loved  the  emperor!  " 

The  other  living  wreckage  of  Napoleonic  tem- 
pest to  be  found  in  that  quiet  nook  of  France 
clustered  round  him  infinitely  respectful  of  that 
sorrow.  He  himself  imagined  his  soul  to  be 
crushed  by  grief.  He  experienced  quickly  suc- 
ceeding impulses  to  weep,  to  howl,  to  bite  his  fists 
till  blood  came,  to  lie  for  days  on  his  bed  with 

[120] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
his  head  thrust  under  the  pillow;  hut  they  arose 
from  sheer  ennui,  from  the  anguish  of  an  im- 
mense, indescribable,  inconceivable  boredom. 
Only  his  mental  inability  to  grasp  the  hopeless 
nature  of  his  case  as  a  whole  saved  him  from  sui- 
cide. He  never  even  thought  of  it  once.  He 
thought  of  nothing;  but  his  appetite  abandoned 
him,  and  the  difficulty  of  expressing  the  over- 
whelming horror  of  his  feelings  (the  most  fm-ious 
swearing  could  do  no  justice  to  it)  induced 
gradually  a  habit  of  silence: — a  sort  of  death  to 
a  Southern  temperament. 

Great  therefore  was  the  emotion  amongst  the 
anciens  militaires  frequenting  a  certain  little  cafe 
full  of  flies  when  one  stuffy  afternoon  "  that  poor 
General  Feraud  "  let  out  suddenly  a  volley  of 
formidable  curses. 

He  had  been  sitting  quietly  in  his  own  privi- 
leged corner  looking  through  the  Paris  gazettes 
with  about  as  much  interest  as  a  condemned  man 
on  the  eve  of  execution  could  be  expected  to  show 
in  the  news  of  the  day.  A  cluster  of  martial, 
bronzed  faces,  including  one  lacking  an  eye  and 

[121] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
another  lacking  the  tip  of  a  nose  frost-bitten  in 
Russia,  surrounded  him  anxiously. 

"  What's  the  matter,  general?  " 

General  Feraud  sat  erect,  holding  the  news- 
paper at  arm's  length  in  order  to  make  out  the 
small  print  better.  He  was  reading  very  low  to 
himself  over  again  fragments  of  the  intelligence 
which  had  caused  what  may  be  called  his  resur- 
rection. 

"  We  are  informed  .  .  .  till  now  on  sick  leave 
...  is  to  be  called  to  the  command  of  the  5th 
Cavalry  Brigade  in  .  .  ." 

He  dropped  the  paper  stonily,  mumbled  once 
more  ..."  Called  to  the  command  "...  and 
suddenly  gave  his  forehead  a  mighty  slap. 

"  I  had  almost  forgotten  him,"  he  cried  in 
a  conscience-stricken  tone. 

A  deep-chested  veteran  shouted  across  the 
cafe: 

"  Some  new  villainy  of  the  government,  gen- 
eral?" 

"  The  villainies  of  these  scoundrels,"  thun- 
dered General  Feraud,  "  are  innumerable.  One 

[122] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
more,  one  less!  .  .  ."  He  lowered  his  tone.  "  But 
I  will  set  good  order  to  one  of  them  at  least." 

He  looked  all  round  the  faces.  "  There's  a 
pomaded  curled  staff  officer,  the  darling  of  some 
of  the  marshals  who  sold  their  father  for  a  hand- 
ful of  English  gold.  He  will  find  out  presently 
that  I  am  alive  yet,"  he  declared  in  a  dogmatic 
tone.  ..."  However,  this  is  a  private  affair. 
An  old  affair  of  honour.  Bah!  Our  honour  does 
not  matter.  Here  we  are  driven  off  with  a  split 
ear  like  a  lot  of  cast  troop  horses — good  only  for 
a  knacker's  yard.  Who  cares  for  our  honour  now? 
But  it  would  be  like  striking  a  blow  for  the  em- 
peror. .  .  .  Messieurs^  I  require  the  assistance 
of  two  of  you." 

Every  man  moved  forward.  General  Feraud, 
deeply  touched  by  this  demonstration,  called 
with  visible  emotion  upon  the  one-eyed  veteran 
cuirassier  and  the  officer  of  the  Chasseurs  a 
cheval,  who  had  left  the  tip  of  his  nose  in  Russia. 
He  excused  his  choice  to  the  others. 

"  A  cavalry  affair  this — you  know." 

He   was   answered   with   a   varied   chorus   of 

[  123  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  Parfaitement  inon  General  .  .  .  C'est  juste 
.  .  .  Parbleu  c'est  connu  ..."  Everybody  was  sat- 
isfied. The  three  left  the  cafe  together,  followed 
by  cries  of  "  Bonne  chance.*' 

Outside  they  linked  arms,  the  general  in  the 
middle.  The  three  rusty  cocked  hats  worn  en 
hataille,  with  a  sinister  forward  slant,  barred 
the  narrow  street  nearly  right  across.  The  over- 
heated little  town  of  gray  stones  and  red  tiles 
was  drowsing  away  its  provincial  afternoon 
under  a  blue  sky.  Far  oiF  the  loud  blows  of  some 
coopers  hooping  a  cask,  reverberated  regularly 
between  the  houses.  The  general  dragged  his 
left  foot  a  little  in  the  shade  of  the  walls. 

"  That  damned  winter  of  1813  got  into  my 
bones  for  good.  Never  mind.  We  must  take  pis- 
tols, that's  all.  A  little  lumbago.  We  must  have 
pistols.  He's  sure  game  for  my  bag.  My  eyes 
are  as  keen  as  ever.  Always  were.  You  should 
have  seen  me  picking  off  the  dodging  Cossacks 
with  a  beastly  old  infantry  musket.  I  have  a 
natural  gift  for  firearms." 

In  this  strain  General  Feraud  ran  on,  holding 

[124] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

up  his  head  with  owlish  eyes  and  rapacious  beak. 
A  mere  fighter  all  his  life,  a  cavalry  man,  a 
sahreur,  he  conceived  war  with  the  utmost  sim- 
plicity as  in  the  main  a  massed  lot  of  personal 
contests,  a  sort  of  gregarious  duelling.  And  here 
he  had  on  hand  a  war  of  his  own.  He  revived. 
The  shadow  of  peace  had  passed  away  from  him 
like  the  shadow  of  death.  It  was  a  marvellous 
resurrection  of  the  named  Feraud,  Gabriel 
Florian,  engage  volontaire  of  1793,  general  of 
1814,  buried  without  ceremony  by  means  of  a 
service  order  signed  bj^  the  War  JNIinister  of  the 
Second  Restoration. 


[125] 


IV 


No  man  succeeds  in  everything  he  under- 
takes. In  that  sense  we  are  all  failures. 
The  great  point  is  not  to  fail  in  ordering 
and  sustaining  the  effort  of  our  life.  In  this  mat- 
ter vanity  is  what  leads  us  astray.  It  is  our  vanity 
which  hiuries  us  into  situations  from  which  we 
must  come  out  damaged.  Whereas  pride  is  our 
safeguard  by  the  reserve  it  imposes  on  the  choice 
of  our  endeavour,  as  much  as  by  the  virtue  of  its 
sustaining  power. 

General  D' Hubert  was  proud  and  reserved. 
He  had  not  been  damaged  by  casual  love  affairs 
successful  or  otherwise.  In  his  war-scarred  body 
his  heart  at  forty  remained  unscratched.  Enter- 
ing with  reserve  into  his  sister's  matrimonial 
plans,  he  felt  himself  falling  irremediably  in  love 
as  one  falls  off  a  roof.  He  was  too  proud  to  be 

[126] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

frightened.  Indeed,  the  sensation  was  too  de- 
hghtful  to  be  alarmhig. 

The  inexperience  of  a  man  of  forty  is  a 
much  more  serious  thing  than  the  inexperience 
of  a  youth  of  twenty,  for  it  is  not  helped  out 
by  the  rashness  of  hot  blood.  The  girl  was  mys- 
terious, as  all  young  girls  are,  by  the  mere  effect 
of  their  guarded  ingenuity;  and  to  him  the  mys- 
teriousness  of  that  yoimg  girl  appeared  excep- 
tional and  fascinating.  But  there  was  nothing 
mysterious  about  the  arrangements  of  the  match 
which  ]\Iadame  Leonie  had  arranged.  There  was 
nothing  peculiar,  either.  It  was  a  ver}'^  appropri- 
ate match,  commending  itself  extremely  to  the 
young  lady's  mother  (her  father  was  dead)  and 
tolerable  to  the  young  lady's  uncle — an  old 
emigre,  lately  returned  from  Germany,  and  per- 
vading cane  in  hand  like  a  lean  ghost  of  the 
ancien  regime  in  a  long-skirted  brown  coat  and 
powdered  hair,  the  garden  walks  of  the  young 
lady's  ancestral  home. 

General  D 'Hubert  was  not  the  man  to  be  sat- 
isfied  merely   with  the  girl  and   the   fortune — 

[127] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

when  it  came  to  the  point.  His  pride — and  pride 
aims  always  at  true  success — would  be  satisfied 
with  nothing  short  of  love.  But  as  pride  ex- 
cludes vanity,  he  could  not  imagine  any  reason 
why  this  mysterious  creature,  with  deep  and  can- 
did eyes  of  a  violet  colour,  should  have  any  feel- 
ing for  him  warmer  than  indifference.  The  young 
lady  (her  name  was  Adele)  baffled  every  at- 
tempt at  a  clear  understanding  on  that  point.  It 
is  true  that  the  attempts  were  clumsy  and  tim- 
idlv  made,  because  bv  then  General  D'Hubert 
had  become  acutely  aware  of  the  number  of  his 
years,  of  his  woimds,  of  his  many  moral  imper- 
fections, of  his  secret  unworthiness — and  had  in- 
cidentally learned  by  experience  the  meaning  of 
the  word  funk.  As  far  as  he  could  make  it  out 
she  seemed  to  imply  that  with  a  perfect  confi- 
dence in  her  mother's  affection  and  sagacity  she 
had  no  pronounced  antipathy  for  the  person  of 
General  D'Hubert;  and  that  this  was  quite  suf- 
ficient for  a  well-brought-up  dutiful  young  lady 
to  begin  married  life  upon.  This  view  hurt  and 
tormented  the  pride  of  General  D'Hubert.  And 

[  128] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

yet,  he  asked  himself  with  a  sort  of  sweet 
despair,  What  more  could  he  expect?  She 
had  a  quiet  and  luminous  forehead;  her  violet 
eyes  laughed  while  the  lines  of  her  lips  and  chin 
remained  composed  in  an  admirable  gravity. 
All  this  was  set  off  by  such  a  glorious  mass  of 
fair  hair,  by  a  complexion  so  marvellous,  by  such 
a  grace  of  expression,  that  General  D'Hubert 
really  never  found  the  opportunity  to  examine, 
with  sufficient  detachment,  the  lofty  exigencies 
of  his  pride.  In  fact,  he  became  shy  of  that  line 
of  inquiry,  since  it  had  led  once  or  twice  to  a  cri- 
sis of  solitary  passion  in  which  it  was  borne  ujjon 
him  that  he  loved  her  enough  to  kill  her  rather 
than  lose  her.  From  such  passages,  not  unknown 
to  men  of  forty,  he  would  come  out  broken, 
exhausted,  remorseful,  a  little  dismayed.  He 
derived,  however,  considerable  comfort  from 
the  quietist  practice  of  sitting  up  now  and  then 
half  the  night  by  an  open  window,  and  medi- 
tating upon  the  wonder  of  her  existence,  like  a 
believer  lost  in  the  mystic  contemplation  of  his 
faith. 

[  129] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
It  must  not  be  supposed  that  all  these  varia- 
tions of  liis  inward  state  were  made  manifest  to 
the  worlii.  General  D'Hubert  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  appearing  wreathed  in  smiles:  because, 
in  fact,  he  was  very  happy.  He  followed  the 
established  rules  of  his  condition,  sending  over 
flowers  (from  his  sister's  garden  and  hot- 
houses) early  every  morning,  and  a  httle  later 
following  himself  to  have  lunch  with  his  in- 
tended, her  mother,  and  her  emigre  uncle.  The 
middle  of  the  day  was  spent  in  strolling  or  sit- 
ting in  the  shade.  A  watchful  deferential  gallan- 
try trembling  on  the  verge  of  tenderness,  was 
the  note  of  their  intercourse  on  his  side — with  a 
playful  turn  of  the  phrase  concealing  the  pro- 
found trouble  of  his  whole  being  caused  by 
her  inaccessible  nearness.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
General  D'Hubert  walked  home  between  the 
fields  of  vines,  sometimes  intensely  miserable, 
sometimes  supremely  happy,  sometimes  pen- 
sively sad,  but  always  feeling  a  special  intensity 
of  existence:  that  elation  common  to  artists, 
poets,  and  lovers,  to  men  haunted  by  a  great  pas- 

[130] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

slon,  by  a  noble  thought  or  a  new  vision  of  plastic 
beauty. 

The  outward  world  at  that  time  did  not  exist 
with  any  special  distinctness  for  General  D'Hu- 
bert.  One  evening,  however,  crossing  a  ridge 
from  which  he  could  see  both  houses,  General 
D'Hubert  became  aware  of  two  figures  far  down 
the  road.  The  day  had  been  divine.  The  festal 
decoration  of  the  inflamed  sky  cast  a  gentle  glow 
on  the  sober  tints  of  the  southern  land.  The 
gray  rocks,  the  brown  fields,  the  purple  midulat- 
ing  distances  harmonised  in  luminous  accord,  ex- 
haled already  the  scents  of  the  evening.  The  two 
figures  down  the  road  presented  themselves  like 
two  rigid  and  wooden  silhouettes  all  black  on 
the  ribbon  of  white  dust.  General  D'Hubert 
made  out  the  long,  straight-cut  military  capotes, 
buttoned  closely  right  up  to  the  black  stocks, 
the  cocked  hats,  the  lean  carven  brown  coun- 
tenances— old  soldiers — vieillcs  moustaches!  The 
taller  of  the  two  had  a  black  patch  over  one 
eye;  the  other's  hard,  dvy  countenance  presented 
some  bizarre   disquieting  peculiarity   which,   on 

[131] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
nearer  approach,  proved  to  be  the  absence  of  the 
tip  of  the  nose.  Lifting  their  hands  with  one 
movement  to  salute  the  shghtly  lame  civilian 
walking  with  a  thick  stick,  they  inquired  for  the 
house  where  the  General  Baron  D 'Hubert  lived 
and  what  was  the  best  way  to  get  speech  with 
him  quietly. 

"  If  you  think  this  quiet  enough,"  said 
General  D'Hubert,  looking  round  at  the  ripen- 
ing vine-fields  framed  in  purple  lines  and 
dominated  by  the  nest  of  gray  and  drab  walls 
of  a  village  clustering  around  the  top  of  a 
steep,  conical  hill,  so  that  the  blunt  church 
tower  seemed  but  the  shape  of  a  crowning  rock 
— "  if  you  think  this  quiet  enough  you  can  speak 
to  him  at  once.  And  I  beg  you,  comrades,  to 
speak  openly  with  perfect  confidence." 

They  stepped  back  at  this  and  raised  again 
their  hands  to  their  hats  with  marked  ceremoni- 
ousness.  Then  the  one  with  the  chipped  nose, 
speaking  for  both,  remarked  that  the  matter  was 
confidential  enough  and  to  be  arranged  dis- 
creetly. Their  general  quarters  were  in  that  vil- 

[132] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

lage  over  there  where  the  infernal  clodhoppers 
— damn  their  false  royalist  hearts — looked  re- 
markably cross-eyed  at  three  unassuming  mili- 
tary men.  For  the  present  he  should  only  ask  for 
the  name  of  General  D'Hubert's  friends. 

"  What  friends?  "  said  the  astonished  General 
D'Hubert,  com])letely  off  the  track.  "  I  am  stay- 
ing with  my  brother-in-law  over  there." 

"  Well,  he  will  do  for  one,"  suggested  the 
chipped  veteran. 

"  We're  the  friends  of  General  Feraud."  in- 
terjected the  other,  who  had  kept  silent  till  then, 
only  glowering  with  his  one  eye  at  the  man  who 
had  never  loved  the  emperor.  That  was  some- 
thing to  look  at.  For  even  the  gold-laced  Judases 
who  had  sold  him  to  the  English,  the  marshals 
and  princes,  had  loved  him  at  some  time  or  other. 
But  this  man  had  never  loved  the  emperor.  Gen- 
eral Feraud  had  said  so  distinctlv. 

General  D'Hubert  felt  a  sort  of  inward  blow 
in  his  chest.  For  an  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a 
second  it  was  as  if  the  spinning  of  the  earth  had 
become  perceptible  with  an  awful,  slight  rustle 

[  133] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

in  the  eternal  stillness  of  space.  But  that  was  the 
noise  of  the  blood  in  his  ears  and  passed  off  at 
once.  Involuntarily  he  murmured: 

"Feraud!  I  had  forgotten  his  existence." 

"  He's  existing  at  present,  very  uncomfortably 
it  is  true,  in  the  infamous  inn  of  that  nest  of  sav- 
ages up  there,"  said  the  one-eyed  cuirassier  drily. 
"  We  arrived  in  your  parts  an  hour  ago  on  post 
horses.  He's  awaiting  our  return  with  impa- 
tience. There  is  hurry,  you  know.  The  general 
has  broken  the  ministerial  order  of  sojourn  to 
obtain  from  you  the  satisfaction  he's  entitled  to 
by  the  laws  of  honour,  and  naturally  he's  anx- 
ious to  have  it  all  over  before  the  gendarmerie 
gets  the  scent." 

The  other  elucidated  the  idea  a  little  further. 

"  Get  back  on  the  quiet — you  understand? 
Phitt!  No  one  the  wiser.  We  have  broken  out, 
too.  Your  friend  the  king  would  be  glad  to  cut 
off  oui'  scurvy  pittances  at  the  first  chance.  It's  a 
risk.  But  honour  before  everything." 

General  D' Hubert  had  recovered  his  power  of 
speech. 

[  134] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  So  you  come  like  this  along  the  road  to  in- 
vite me  to  a  throat-cutting  match  with  that — 
that  ..."  A  laughing  sort  of  rage  took  posses- 
sion of  him. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!" 

His  fists  on  his  hips,  he  roared  without  re- 
straint wliile  they  stood  before  him  lank  and 
straight,  as  unexpected  as  though  they  had 
been  shot  up  with  a  snap  through  a  trapdoor  in 
the  ground.  Only  four-and-twenty  months  ago 
the  masters  of  Europe,  they  had  already  the  air 
of  antique  ghosts,  they  seemed  less  substantial 
in  their  faded  coats  than  their  o^mi  narrow  shad- 
ows falling  so  black  across  the  white  road — the 
military  and  grotesque  shadows  of  twenty  years 
of  war  and  conquests.  They  had  the  outlandish 
appearance  of  two  imperturbable  bronzes  of  the 
religion  of  the  sword.  And  General  D 'Hubert, 
also  one  of  the  ex-masters  of  Europe,  laughed 
at  these  serious  phantoms  standing  in  his 
way. 

Said  one,  indicating  tlie  laugliing  general  with 
a  jerk  of  the  head: 

[135] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  A  merry  companion  that." 

"  There  are  some  of  us  that  haven't  smiled 
from  the  day  the  Other  went  away,"  said  his 
comrade. 

A  violent  impulse  to  set  upon  and  beat  these 
unsubstantial  wraiths  to  the  ground  frightened 
General  D 'Hubert.  He  ceased  laughing  sud- 
denly. His  urgent  desire  now  was  to  get  rid  of 
them,  to  get  them  away  from  his  sight  quickly  be- 
fore he  lost  control  of  himself.  He  wondered  at 
this  fury  he  felt  rising  in  his  breast.  But  he  had 
no  time  to  look  into  that  peculiarity  just  then. 

"  I  understand  your  wish  to  be  done  with  me 
as  quickly  as  possible.  Then  why  waste  time  in 
empty  ceremonies.  Do  you  see  that  wood  there 
at  the  foot  of  that  slope?  Yes,  the  wood  of  pines. 
Let  us  meet  there  to-morrow  at  sunrise.  I  will 
bring  with  me  my  sword  or  my  pistols  or  both  if 
you  like." 

The  seconds  of  General  Feraud  looked  at 
each  other. 

"  Pistols,  general,"  said  the  cuirassier. 

"  So  be  it.  Au  revoir — to-morrow  morning. 

[136] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

Till  then  let  me  advise  you  to  keep  close  if  you 
don't  want  the  gejidarmerie  making  inquiries 
about  you  before  dark.  Strangers  are  rare  in  this 
part  of  the  country." 

They  saluted  in  silence.  General  D 'Hubert, 
turning  his  back  on  their  retreating  figures, 
stood  still  in  the  middle  of  the  road  for  a  long 
time,  biting  his  lower  lip  and  looking  on  the 
ground.  Then  he  began  to  walk  straight  before 
him,  thus  retracing  his  steps  till  he  found  himself 
before  the  park  gate  of  his  intended's  home. 
Motionless  he  stared  through  the  bars  at  the 
front  of  the  house  gleaming  clear  beyond  the 
thickets  and  trees.  Footsteps  were  heard  on  the 
gravel,  and  presently  a  tall  stooping  shape 
emerged  from  the  lateral  alley  following  the  in- 
ner side  of  the  park  wall. 

Le  Chevalier  de  Valmassigue,  uncle  of  the 
adorable  Adele,  ex-brigadier  in  the  army  of  the 
princes,  bookbinder  in  Altona,  afterwards  shoe- 
maker (with  a  great  reputation  for  elegance  in 
the  fit  of  ladies'  shoes)  in  another  small  German 
town,  wore  silk  stockings  on  his  lean  shanks, 

[137] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
low  shoes  with  silver  buckles,  a  brocaded  waist- 
coat. A  long-skirted  coat  a  la  Fran^aise  covered 
loosely  his  bowed  back.  A  small  three-cornered 
hat  rested  on  a  lot  of  powdered  hair  tied  behind 
in  a  queue. 

"  Monsieur  le  Chevalier T  called  General 
D'Hubert  softly. 

"  What?  You  again  here,  mon  ami^.  Have  you 
forgotten  something? " 

"  By  heavens!  That's  just  it.  I  have  forgotten 
something.  I  am  come  to  tell  you  of  it.  No — out- 
side. Behind  this  wall.  It's  too  ghastly  a  thing 
to  be  let  in  at  all  where  she  Hves." 

The  Chevalier  came  out  at  once  with  that  be- 
nevolent resignation  some  old  people  display 
towards  the  fugue  of  youth.  Older  by  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  than  General  D'Hubert,  he 
looked  upon  him  in  the  secret  of  his  heart  as  a 
rather  troublesome  youngster  in  love.  He  had 
heard  his  enigmatical  words  very  well,  but  at- 
tached no  undue  importance  to  what  a  mere  man 
of  forty  so  hard  hit  was  likely  to  do  or  say.  The 
tiu'n  of  mind  of  the  generation  of  Frenchmen 

[  138  ] 


TPIE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
grown  up  during  the  years  of  his  exile  was 
ahnost  unintelligible  to  him.  Their  sentiments  ap- 
peared to  him  unduly  violent,  lacking  fineness 
and  measure,  their  language  needlessly  exag- 
gerated. He  joined  the  general  on  the  road, 
and  they  made  a  few  steps  in  silence,  the  general 
trying  to  master  his  agitation  and  get  proper 
control  of  his  voice. 

*'  Chevalier,  it  is  perfectly  true.  I  forgot  some- 
thing. I  forgot  till  half  an  hour  ago  that  I  had 
an  urgent  affair  of  honour  on  my  hands.  It's  in- 
credible but  so  it  is !  " 

All  was  still  for  a  moment.  Then  in  the  pro- 
found evening  silence  of  the  countryside  the 
thin,  aged  voice  of  the  Chevalier  was  heard 
trembling  slightly. 

"Monsieur!  That's  an  indignity." 

It  was  his  first  thought.  The  girl  born  during 
his  exile,  the  posthimious  daughter  of  his  poor 
brother,  murdered  by  a  band  of  Jacobins,  had 
grown  since  his  return  very  dear  to  his  old  heart, 
which  had  been  starving  on  mere  memories  of 
affection  for  so  many  years. 

[139] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"It  is  an  inconceivable  thing — I  say.  A  man 
settles  such  affairs  before  he  thinks  of  asking  for 
a  young  girl's  hand.  Why!  If  you  had  forgotten 
for  ten  days  longer  you  would  have  been  mar- 
ried before  your  memory  returned  to  you.  In  my 
time  men  did  not  forget  such  things — nor  yet 
what's  due  to  the  feelings  of  an  innocent  young 
woman.  If  I  did  not  respect  them  myself  I  would 
qualify  your  conduct  in  a  way  which  you  would 
not  like." 

General  D'Hubert  relieved  himself  frankly  by 
a  groan. 

"  Don't  let  that  consideration  prevent  you. 
You  run  no  risk  of  offending  her  mortally." 

But  the  old  man  paid  no  attention  to  this  lov- 
er's nonsense.  It's  doubtful  whether  he  even 
heard. 

"  What  is  it? "  he  asked.  "  What's  the  nature 
of  .  .  ." 

"  Call  it  a  youthful  folly,  Monsieur  le  Cheva- 
lier. An  inconceivable,  incredible  result  of  .  .  ." 

He  stopped  vshort.  "  He  will  never  believe  the 
story,"  he  thought.  "  He  will  only  think  I  am 

[140] 


(( 


ii 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
taking  him  for  a  fool  and  get  offended."  General 
D'Hubert   spoke  up   again.   "  Yes,  originating 
in  youthful  folly  it  has  become  ..." 

The  Chevalier  interrupted. 
Well  then  it  must  be  arranged." 
Arranged." 

"  Yes.  No  matter  what  it  may  cost  your  amour 
propre.  You  should  have  remembered  you  were 
engaged.  You  forgot  that,  too,  I  suppose.  And 
then  you  go  and  forget  your  quarrel.  It's  the 
most  revolting  exhibition  of  levity  I  ever  heard 
of." 

"  Good  heavens,  Chevalier!  You  don't  imagine 
I  have  been  picking  up  that  quarrel  last  time  I 
was  in  Paris  or  anything  of  the  sort.  Do 
you?" 

"  Eh?  What  matters  the  precise  date  of  your 
insane  conduct!  "  exclaimed  the  ChevaHer  testily. 
"  The  principal  thing  is  to  arrange  it  .  .  ." 

Noticing  General  D'Hubert  getting  restive 
and  trying  to  place  a  word,  the  old  emigre  raised 
his  arm  and  added  with  dignity: 

"  I've  been  a  soldier,  too.  I  would  never  dare 

[141] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
to  suggest  a  doubtful  step  to  the  man  whose  name 
my  niece  is  to  bear.  I  tell  you  that  entre  gallants 
hommes  an  affair  can  be  always  arranged." 

"  But,  saperlotte.  Monsieur  le  Chevalier „  it's 
fifteen  or  sixteen  years  ago.  I  was  a  heutenant 
of  Hussars  then." 

The  old  Chevalier  seemed  confounded  by  the 
vehemently  despairing  tone  of  this  information. 

"  You  were  a  lieutenant  of  Hussars  sixteen 
years  ago?  "  he  mumbled  in  a  dazed  manner. 

"  Why,  yes!  You  did  not  suppose  I  was  made 
a  general  in  my  cradle  like  a  royal  prince." 

In  the  deepening  purple  twilight  of  the 
fields,  spread  with  vine  leaves,  backed  by  a  low 
band  of  sombre  crimson  in  the  west,  the  voice  of 
the  old  ex -officer  in  the  army  of  the  princes 
sounded  collected,  punctiliously  civil. 

"  Do  I  dream?  Is  this  a  pleasantry?  Or  do 
you  mean  me  to  understand  that  you  have  been 
hatching  an  affair  of  honour  for  sixteen  years?  " 

"  It  has  clung  to  me  for  that  length  of  time. 
That  is  my  precise  meaning.  The  quarrel  itself 
is  not  to  be  explained  easily.  We  have  been  on 

[  142] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
the  ground  several  times  during  that   time  of 


course." 


"  What  manners!  ^Vhat  horrihle  perversion  of 
manhness!  Nothing  can  account  for  such  inhu- 
manity but  the  sanguinary  madness  of  the  Revo- 
lution which  has  tainted  a  whole  generation," 
mused  the  returned  emigre  in  a  low  tone.  "  Who 
is  your  adversary?  "  he  asked  a  little  louder. 

"  What?  My  adversary!  His  name  is  Feraud." 

Shadowy  in  his  tricorne  and  old-fashioned 
clothes  hke  a  bowed  thin  ghost  of  the  ancien 
regime  the  Chevalier  voiced  a  ghostly  memory. 

"  I  can  remember  the  feud  about  little  Sophie 
Derval  between  Monsieur  de  Brissac,  captain  in 
the  Bodyguards  and  d'Anjorrant.  Not  the  pock- 
marked one.  The  other.  The  Beau  d'Anjorrant 
as  they  called  him.  They  met  three  times  in 
eighteen  months  in  a  most  gallant  manner.  It 
was  the  fault  of  that  little  Sophie,  too,  who 
would  keep  on  playing  .  .  ." 

This  is  nothing  of  the  kind,"  interrupted 
General  D'Hubert.  He  laughed  a  little  sardon- 
ically. "  Not  at  all  so  simple,"  he  added.  "  Nor 

[  143  1 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
yet  half  so  reasonable,"  he  finished  inaudibly  be- 
tween his  teeth  and  ground  them  with  rage. 

After  this  sound  nothing  troubled  the  silence 
for  a  long  time  till  the  Chevalier  asked  without 
animation : 

"  What  is  he— this  Feraud?  " 

"  Lieutenant  of  Hussars,  too — I  mean  he's  a 
general.  A  Gascon.  Son  of  a  blacksmith,  I  be- 
heve." 

"  There!  I  thought  so.  That  Bonaparte  had  a 
special  predilection  for  the  canaille.  I  don't  mean 
this  for  you,  D 'Hubert.  You  are  one  of  us,  though 
you  have  served  this  usurper  who  ..." 

"  Let's  leave  him  out  of  this,"  broke  in  General 
D'Hubert. 

The  Chevalier  shrugged  his  peaked  shoulders. 

"  A  Feraud  of  sorts.  Offspring  of  a  blacksmith 
and  some  village  troll.  .  .  .  See  Avhat  comes  of 
mixing  yourself  up  with  that  sort  of  people." 

"  You  have  made  shoes  yourself,  Chevalier." 

"  Yes.  But  I  am  not  the  son  of  a  shoemaker. 
Neither  are  you,  Monsieur  D'Hubert.  You  and 
I  have  something  that  your  Bonaparte's,  princes, 

[  144  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
dukes,  and  marshals  have  not  because  there's  no 
power  on  earth  that  could  give  it  to  them,"  re- 
torted the  emigre,  with  the  rising  animation  of  a 
man  who  has  got  hold  of  a  liopeful  argument. 
"  Those  people  don't  exist — all  these  Ferauds. 
Feraud!  What  is  Feraud?  A  va-nu-pieds  dis- 
guised into  a  general  by  a  Corsican  adventurer 
masquerading  as  an  emperor.  There  is  no  earthly 
reason  for  a  D'Hubert  to  s' encanailler  by  a  duel 
with  a  person  of  that  sort.  You  can  make  your 
excuses  to  him  perfectly  well.  And  if  the  manant 
takes  it  into  his  head  to  decline  them  you  may 
simply  refuse  to  meet  him." 
"  You  say  I  may  do  that? " 
"  Yes.  With  the  clearest  conscience." 
"  Monsieur  le  Chevalier!  To  what  do  you  think 
you  have  returned  from  your  emigration?  " 

This  was  said  in  such  a  startling  tone  that  the 
old  exile  raised  sharply  his  bowed  head,  glimmer- 
ing silvery  white  under  the  points  of  the  little 
tricorne.  For  a  long  time  he  made  no  sound. 

"  God  knows!  "  he  said  at  last,  pohiting  with 
a  slow  and  grave  gesture  at  a  tall  roadside  cross 

[145] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
mounted  on  a  block  of  stone  and  stretching  its 
arms  of  forged  stone  all  black  against  the  darken- 
ing red  band  in  the  sky.  "  God  knows!  If  it  were 
not  for  this  emblem,  which  I  remember  seeing  in 
this  spot  as  a  child,  I  would  wonder  to  what  we, 
who  have  remained  faithful  to  our  God  and  our 
king,  have  returned.  The  very  voices  of  the  peo- 
ple have  changed." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  changed  France,"  said  General 
D'Hubert.  He  had  regained  his  calm.  His  tone 
was  slightly  ironic.  "  Therefore,  I  cannot  take 
your  advice.  Besides,  how  is  one  to  refuse  to 
be  bitten  by  a  dog  that  means  to  bite?  It's 
impracticable.  Take  my  word  for  it.  He  isn't 
a  man  to  be  stopped  by  apologies  or  refusals. 
But  there  are  other  ways.  I  could,  for  instance, 
send  a  mounted  messenger  with  a  word  to  the 
brigadier  of  the  gendarmerie  in  Senlac.  These 
fellows  are  liable  to  arrest  on  my  simple  order.  It 
would  make  some  talk  in  the  army,  both  the 
organised  and  the  disbanded.  Especially  the  dis- 
banded. All  canaille  \  All  my  comrades  once — 
the  companions  in  arms  of  Armand  D'Hubert. 

[  146] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
But  what  need  a  D 'Hubert  care  what  people 
who  don't  exist  may  think?  Or  better  still,  I 
might  get  my  brother-in-law  to  send  for  the 
mayor  of  the  village  and  give  him  a  hint.  No 
more  would  be  needed  to  get  the  three  '  brigands  ' 
set  upon  with  flails  and  pitchforks  and  hunted 
into  some  nice  deep  wet  ditch.  And  nobody  the 
wiser!  It  has  been  done  only  ten  miles  from 
here  to  three  poor  devils  of  the  disbanded  Red 
Lancers  of  the  Guard  going  to  their  homes. 
What  says  your  conscience,  Chevalier?  Can  a 
D'Hubert  do  that  thing  to  three  men  who  do  not 
exist?  " 

A  few  stars  had  come  out  on  the  blue  obscu- 
rity, clear  as  crystal,  of  the  sky.  The  dry,  thin 
voice  of  the  ChevaHer  spoke  harshly. 

"  Why  are  you  telling  me  all  this?  " 

The  general  seized  a  withered,  frail  old  hand 
with  a  strong  grip. 

"  Because  I  owe  you  my  fullest  confidence. 
Who  could  tell  Adele  but  you?  You  understand 
why  I  dare  not  trust  my  brother-in-law  nor  yet 
my  own  sister.  Chevalier!  I  have  been  so  near 

[U7] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
doing  these  things  that  I  tremble  yet.  You  don't 
know  how  terrible  this  duel  appears  to  me.  And 
there's  no  escape  from  it." 

He  murmured  after  a  pause,  "  It's  a  fatality," 
dropped  the  Chevalier's  passive  hand,  and  said 
in  his  ordinary  conversational  voice: 

"  I  shall  have  to  go  without  seconds.  If  it  is 
my  lot  to  remain  on  the  ground,  you  at  least 
will  know  all  that  can  be  made  known  of  this 
affair." 

The  shadowy  ghost  of  the  ancien  regime 
seemed  to  have  become  more  bowed  during  the 
conversation. 

"  How  am  I  to  keep  an  indifferent  face  this 
evening  before  those  two  women? "  he  groaned. 
"  General!  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  forgive  you." 

General  D' Hubert  made  no  answer. 

*'  Is  your  cause  good  at  least?  " 

"  I  am  innocent." 

This  time  he  seized  the  Chevalier's  ghostly  arm 
above  the  elbow,  gave  it  a  mighty  squeeze. 

"  I  must  kill  him,"  he  hissed,  and  opening  his 
hand  strode  away  down  the  road. 

[148] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

The  delicate  attentions  of  his  adoring  sister 
had  secured  for  the  general  perfect  liberty  of 
movement  in  the  house  where  he  was  a  guest.  He 
had  even  his  own  entrance  through  a  small  door 
in  one  corner  of  the  orangery.  Thus  he  was  not 
exposed  that  evening  to  the  necessity  of  dissem- 
bling his  agitation  before  the  calm  ignorance  of 
the  other  inmates.  He  was  glad  of  it.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  if  he  had  to  open  his  lips,  he  would 
break  out  into  horrible  imprecation,  start  break- 
ing furniture,  smashing  china  and  glasses.  From 
the  moment  he  opened  the  private  door,  and 
while  ascending  the  twenty-eight  steps  of  wind- 
ing staircase,  giving  access  to  the  corridor  on 
which  his  room  opened,  he  went  through  a  hor- 
rible and  humiliating  scene  in  which  an  infuri- 
ated madman,  with  bloodshot  eyes  and  a  foam- 
ing mouth,  played  inconceivable  havoc  with 
everything  inanimate  that  may  be  found  in  a 
well-appointed  dining  room.  When  he  opened 
the  door  of  his  apartment  the  fit  was  over,  and  his 
bodily  fatigue  was  so  great  that  he  had  to  catch  at 
the  backs  of  the  chairs  as  he  crossed  the  room  to 

[149] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
reach  a  low  and  broad  divan  on  which  he  let  him- 
self fall  heavily.  His  moral  prostration  was  still 
greater.  That  brutahty  of  feeling,  which  he  had 
known  only  when  charging  sabre  in  hand, 
amazed  this  man  of  forty,  who  did  not  recognise 
in  it  the  instinctive  fury  of  his  menaced  passion. 
It  was  the  revolt  of  jeopardised  desire.  In  his 
mental  and  bodily  exhaustion  it  got  cleared,  fined 
down,  purified  into  a  sentiment  of  melancholy 
despair  at  having,  perhaps,  to  die  before  he  had 
taught  this  beautiful  girl  to  love  him. 

On  that  night  General  D'Hubert,  either 
stretched  on  his  back  with  his  hands  over  his  eyes 
or  lying  on  his  breast,  with  his  face  buried 
in  a  cushion,  made  the  full  pilgrimage  of  emo- 
tions. Nauseating  disgust  at  the  absurdity  of  the 
situation,  dread  of  the  fate  that  could  play  such 
a  vile  trick  on  a  man,  awe  at  the  remote  conse- 
quences of  an  apparently  insignificant  and  ridicu- 
lous event  in  his  past,  doubt  of  his  own  fitness  to 
conduct  his  existence  and  mistrust  of  his  best 
sentiments — for  what  the  devil  did  he  want  to  go 
to  Fouche  for? — ^he  knew  them  all  in  turn.  "  I  am 

[  150  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
an  idiot,  neither  more  nor  less,"  he  thought.  "  A 
sensitive  idiot.  Because  I  overheard  two  men  talk 
in  a  cafe  ...  I  am  an  idiot  afraid  of  lies — 
whereas  in  life  it  is  only  truth  that  matters." 

Several  times  he  got  up,  and  walking  about 
in  his  socks,  so  as  not  to  be  heard  by  anybody 
downstairs,  drank  all  the  water  he  could  find  in 
the  dark.  And  he  tasted  the  torments  of  jealousy, 
too.  She  would  marry  somebody  else.  His  very 
soul  writhed.  The  tenacity  of  that  Feraud,  the 
awful  persistence  of  that  imbecile  brute  came  to 
him  with  the  tremendous  force  of  a  relentless  fa- 
tality. General  D'Hubert  trembled  as  he  put 
down  the  empty  water  ewer.  "  He  will  have  me," 
he  thought.  General  D'Hubert  was  tasting  every 
emotion  that  life  has  to  give.  He  had  in  his  dry 
mouth  the  faint,  sickly  flavour  of  fear,  not  the 
honourable  fear  of  a  young  girl's  candid  and 
amused  glance,  but  the  fear  of  death  and  the 
honourable  man's  fear  of  cowardice. 

But  if  true  courage  consists  in  going  out  to 
meet  an  odious  danger  from  which  our  body, 
soul  and  heart  recoil  together  General  D'Hu- 

[151] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

bert  had  the  opportunity  to  practise  it  for  the 
first  time  in  his  hfe.  He  had  charged  exultingly 
at  batteries  and  infantry  squares  and  ridden  with 
messages  through  a  hail  of  bullets  without  think- 
ing anything  about  it.  His  business  now  was  to 
sneak  out  unheard,  at  break  of  day,  to  an  ob- 
scure and  revolting  death.  General  D 'Hubert 
never  hesitated.  He  carried  two  pistols  in  a 
leather  bag  which  he  slung  over  his  shoulder. 
Before  he  had  crossed  the  garden  his  mouth  was 
dry  again.  He  picked  two  oranges.  It  was  only 
after  shutting  the  gate  after  him  that  he  felt  a 
slight  faintness. 

He  stepped  out  disregarding  it,  and  after 
going  a  few  yards  regained  the  command  of  his 
legs.  He  sucked  an  orange  as  he  walked.  It  was 
a  colourless  and  pellucid  dawn.  The  wood  of 
pines  detached  its  columns  of  brown  trunks  and 
its  dark-green  canopy  very  clearly  against  the 
rocks  of  the  gray  hillside  behind.  He  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  it  steadily.  That  temperamental,  good- 
humoured  coolness  in  the  face  of  danger,  which 
made  him  an  officer  liked  by  his  men  and  appre- 

[15^] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

dated  by  his  superiors,  was  gradually  asserting 
itself.  It  was  like  going  into  battle.  Arriving  at 
the  edge  of  the  wood  he  sat  down  on  a  boulder, 
holding  the  other  orange  in  his  hand,  and  thought 
that  he  had  come  ridiculously  early  on  the 
ground.  Before  very  long,  however,  he  heard  the 
swishing  of  bushes,  footsteps  on  the  hard  ground, 
and  the  sounds  of  a  disjointed  loud  conversation. 
A  voice  somewhere  behind  him  said  boastfully, 
"  He's  game  for  my  bag." 

He  thought  to  himself,  "  Here  they  are. 
What's  this  about  game?  Are  they  talking  of 
me? "  And  becoming  aware  of  the  orange  in  his 
hand  he  thought  further,  "  These  are  very  good 
oranges.  Leonie's  own  tree.  I  may  just  as  well 
eat  this  orange  instead  of  flinging  it  away." 

Emerging  from  a  tangle  of  rocks  and  bushes, 
General  Feraud  and  his  seconds  discovered  Gen- 
eral D'Hubert  engaged  in  peeling  the  orange. 
They  stood  still  waiting  till  he  looked  up.  Then 
the  seconds  raised  their  hats,  and  General  Fe- 
raud, putting  his  hands  behind  his  back,  walked 
aside  a  little  way. 

[  153  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  I  am  compelled  to  ask  one  of  you,  messieurs, 
to  act  for  me.  I  have  brought  no  friends.  Will 
you? " 

The  one-eyed  cuirassier  said  judicially: 

"  That  cannot  be  refused." 

The  other  veteran  remarked: 

"  It's  awkward  all  the  same." 

"  Owing  to  the  state  of  the  people's  minds 
in  this  part  of  the  country  there  was  no  one  I 
could  trust  with  the  object  of  your  presence 
here,"  explained  General  D'Hubert  urbanely. 
They  saluted,  looked  round,  and  remarked  both 
together: 

"  Poor  ground." 

"  It's  unfit." 

"  Why  bother  about  ground,  measurements, 
and  so  on.  Let  us  simplify  matters.  Load  the 
two  pairs  of  pistols.  I  will  take  those  of  General 
Feraud  and  let  him  take  mine.  Or,  better  still, 
let  us  take  a  mixed  pair.  One  of  each  pair.  Then 
we  will  go  into  the  wood  while  you  remain  out- 
side. We  did  not  come  here  for  ceremonies,  but 
for  war.  War  to  the  death.  Any  ground  is  good 

[  154] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
enough  for  that.  If  I  fall  you  must  leave  me 
where  I  lie  and  clear  out.  It  wouldn't  be  healthy 
for  you  to  be  found  hanging  about  here  after 
that." 

It  appeared  after  a  short  parley  that  General 
Feraud  was  willing  to  accept  these  conditions. 
While  the  seconds  were  loading  the  pistols  he 
could  be  heard  whistling,  and  was  seen  to  rub  his 
hands  with  an  air  of  perfect  contentment.  He 
flung  off  his  coat  briskly,  and  General  D'Hubert 
took  off  his  own  and  folded  it  carefully  on  a 
stone. 

"  Suppose  you  take  your  principal  to  the 
other  side  of  the  wood  and  let  him  enter  exactly 
in  ten  minutes  from  now,"  suggested  General 
D'Hubert  calmly,  but  feeling  as  if  he  were  giv- 
ing directions  for  his  own  execution.  This,  how- 
ever, was  his  last  moment  of  weakness. 

"  Wait!  Let  us  compare  watches  first." 

He  pulled  out  his  own.  The  officer  with  the 
chipped  nose  went  over  to  borrow  the  watch  of 
General  Feraud.  They  bent  their  heads  over 
them  for  a  time. 

[  155  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

"  That's  it.  At  four  minutes  to  five  by  yours. 
Seven  to,  by  mine." 

It  was  the  cuirassier  who  remained  by  the  side 
of  General  D'Hubert,  keeping  his  one  eye  fixed 
immovably  on  the  white  face  of  the  watch  he  held 
in  the  palm  of  his  hand.  He  opened  his  mouth 
wide,  waiting  for  the  beat  of  the  last  second,  long 
before  he  snapped  out  the  word: 

*'  Avancez! " 

General  D'Hubert  moved  on,  passing  from 
the  glaring  sunshine  of  the  Proven9al  morning 
into  the  cool  and  aromatic  shade  of  the  pines. 
The  ground  was  clear  between  the  reddish 
trunks,  whose  multitude,  leaning  at  slightly  dif- 
ferent angles,  confused  his  eye  at  first.  It  was 
like  going  into  battle.  The  commanding  quality 
of  confidence  in  himself  woke  up  in  his  breast. 
He  was  all  to  his  affair.  The  problem  was  how 
to  kill  his  adversary.  Nothing  short  of  that  would 
free  him  from  this  imbecile  nightmare.  "  It's  no 
use  wounding  that  brute,"  he  thought.  He  was 
known  as  a  resourceful  officer.  His  comrades, 
years  ago,  used  to  call  him  "  the  strategist."  And 

[  156  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

it  was  a  fact  that  he  could  think  in  the  presence 
of  the  enemy,  whereas  Feraud  had  been  always  a 
mere  fighter.  But  a  dead  shot,  iinhickily. 

"  I  must  draw  his  fire  at  the  greatest  possible 
range,"  said  General  D'Hubert  to  himself. 

At  that  moment  he  saw  something  white  mov- 
ing far  off  between  the  trees.  The  shirt  of  his 
adversary.  He  stepped  out  at  once  between  the 
trunks  exposing  himself  freely,  then  quick  as 
lightning  leaped  back.  It  had  been  a  risky  move, 
but  it  succeeded  in  its  object.  Almost  simultane- 
ously with  the  pop  of  a  shot  a  small  piece  of 
bark  chipped  off  by  the  bullet  stung  his  ear 
painfully. 

And  now  General  Feraud,  with  one  shot  ex- 
pended, was  getting  cautious.  Peeping  round  his 
sheltering  tree.  General  D'Hubert  could  not  see 
him  at  all.  This  ignorance  of  his  adversary's 
whereabouts  carried  with  it  a  sense  of  insecur- 
ity. General  D'Hubert  felt  himself  exposed  on 
his  flanks  and  rear.  Again  something  white  flut- 
tered in  his  sight.  Ha!  The  enemy  was  still  on 
his  front  then.  He  had  feared  a  turning  move- 

[157] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

ment.  But,  apparently,  General  Feraud  was  not 
thinking  of  it.  General  D'Hubert  saw  him  pass 
without  special  haste  from  one  tree  to  another  in 
the  straight  line  of  approach.  With  great  firm- 
ness of  mind  General  D'Hubert  stayed  his  hand. 
Too  far  yet.  He  knew  he  was  no  marksman.  His 
must  be  a  waiting  game — ^to  kill. 

He  sank  down  to  the  ground  wishing  to  take 
advantage  of  the  greater  thickness  of  the  tnmk. 
Extended  at  full  length,  head  on  to  his  enemy, 
he  kept  his  person  completely  protected.  Expos- 
ing himself  would  not  do  now  because  the  other 
was  too  near  by  this  time.  A  conviction  that 
Feraud  would  presently  do  something  rash  was 
like  balm  to  General  D'Hubert's  soul.  But  to 
keep  his  chin  raised  off  the  ground  was  irksome, 
and  not  much  use  either.  He  peeped  round,  ex- 
posing a  fraction  of  his  head,  with  dread  but 
really  with  little  risk.  His  enemy,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  did  not  expect  to  see  anything  of  him  so 
low  down  as  that.  General  D'Hubert  caught  a 
fleeting  view  of  General  Feraud  shifting  trees 
again  with  deliberate  caution.  "  He  despises  my 

[  158  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

shooting,"  he  thought,  with  that  insight  into  the 
mind  of  his  antagonist  which  is  of  such  great 
help  in  winning  battles.  It  confirmed  him  in  his 
tactics  of  immobihty.  "  Ah!  if  I  only  could  watch 
my  rear  as  well  as  my  front!  "  he  thought,  long- 
ing for  the  impossible. 

It  required  some  fortitude  to  lay  his  pistols 
down.  But  on  a  sudden  impulse  General  D'Hu- 
bert  did  this  very  gently — one  on  each  side. 
He  had  been  always  looked  upon  as  a  bit  of  a 
dandy,  because  he  used  to  shave  and  put  on  a 
clean  shirt  on  the  days  of  battle.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  he  had  been  always  very  careful  of  his 
personal  appearance.  In  a  man  of  nearly  forty, 
in  love  with  a  young  and  charming  girl,  this 
praiseworthy  self-respect  may  run  to  such  little 
weaknesses  as,  for  instance,  being  provided  with 
an  elegant  leather  folding  case  containing  a  small 
ivory  comb  and  fitted  with  a  piece  of  looking- 
glass  on  the  outside.  General  D'Hubert,  his 
hands  being  free,  felt  in  his  breeches  pockets  for 
that  implement  of  innocent  vanity,  excusable  in 
the  possessor  of  long  silky  moustaches.  He  drew 

[159] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

it  out,  and  then,  with  the  utmost  coohiess  and 
promptitude,  turned  himself  over  on  his  back. 
In  this  new  attitude,  his  head  raised  a  little,  hold- 
ing the  looking-glass  in  one  hand  just  clear  of 
his  tree,  he  squinted  into  it  with  one  eye  while 
the  other  kept  a  direct  watch  on  the  rear  of  his 
position.  Thus  was  proved  Napoleon's  saying, 
that  for  a  French  soldier  the  word  impossible 
does  not  exist.  He  had  the  right  tree  nearly 
filling  the  field  of  his  little  mirror. 

"  If  he  moves  from  there,"  he  said  to  himself 
exultingly,  "  I  am  bound  to  see  his  legs.  And  in 
any  case  he  can't  come  upon  me  unawares." 

And  sure  enough  he  saw  the  boots  of  General 
Feraud  flash  in  and  out,  eclipsing  for  an  instant 
everything  else  reflected  in  the  little  mirror.  He 
shifted  its  position  accordingly.  But  having  to 
form  his  judgment  of  the  change  from  that  in- 
direct view,  he  did  not  realise  that  his  own  feet 
and  a  portion  of  his  legs  were  now  in  plain  and 
startling  view  of  General  Feraud. 

General  Feraud  had  been  getting  gradually 
impressed  by  the  amazing  closeness  with  which 

[  160] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

his  enemy  had  been  keeping  cover.  He  had 
spotted  the  right  tree  with  bloodthirsty  precision. 
He  was  absolutely  certain  of  it.  And  yet  he  had 
not  been  able  to  sight  as  much  as  the  tip  of  an 
ear.  As  he  had  been  looking  for  it  at  the  level  of 
about  five  feet  ten  inches  it  was  no  great  won- 
der— but  it  seemed  very  wonderful  to  General 
Feraud. 

The  first  view  of  these  feet  and  legs  deter- 
mined a  rush  of  blood  to  his  head.  He  Hterally 
staggered  behind  his  tree,  and  had  to  steady 
himself  with  his  hand.  The  other  was  lying  on 
the  ground — on  the  ground!  Perfectly  still,  too! 
Exposed!  What  did  it  mean?  .  .  .  The  notion 
that  he  had  knocked  his  adversary''  over  at  the 
first  shot  then  entered  General  Feraud's  head. 
Once  there,  it  grew  with  every  second  of  atten- 
tive gazing,  overshadowing  every  other  suppo- 
sition— irresistible — triumphant — ferocious. 

"  What  an  ass  I  was  to  think  I  could  have 
missed  him!"  he  said  to  himself.  "He  was  ex- 
posed en  plein — the  fool — for  quite  a  couple  of 
seconds." 

[161] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

And  the  general  gazed  at  the  motionless 
liiiibs,  the  last  vestiges  of  surprise  fading  before 
an  unbounded  admiration  of  his  skill. 

"  Turned  up  his  toes!  By  the  god  of  war  that 
was  a  shot!"  he  continued  mentally.  "Got  it 
through  the  head  just  where  I  aimed,  staggered 
behind  that  tree,  rolled  over  on  his  back  and 
died." 

And  he  stared.  He  stared,  forgetting  to  move, 
almost  awed,  almost  sorry.  But  for  nothing  in 
the  world  would  he  have  had  it  undone.  Such  a 
shot!  Such  a  shot!  Rolled  over  on  his  back,  and 
died! 

For  it  was  this  helpless  position,  lying  on  the 
back,  that  shouted  its  sinister  evidence  at  Gen- 
eral Feraud.  He  could  not  possibly  imagine  that 
it  might  have  been  deliberately  assumed  by  a  liv- 
ing man.  It  was  inconceivable.  It  was  beyond 
the  range  of  sane  supposition.  There  was  no 
possibility  to  guess  the  reason  for  it.  And  it  must 
be  said  that  General  D 'Hubert's  turned-up  feet 
looked  thoroughly  dead.  General  Feraud  ex- 
panded his  lungs  for  a  stentorian  shout  to  his 

[162  1 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
seconds,  but  from  what  he  felt  to  be  an  excessive 
scrupulousness,  refrained  for  a  while. 

"  I  will  just  go  and  see  first  whether  he 
breathes  yet,"  he  mumbled  to  himself,  stepping 
out  from  behind  his  tree.  This  was  immediately- 
perceived  by  the  resourceful  General  D' Hubert. 
He  concluded  it  to  be  another  shift.  When  he 
lost  the  boots  out  of  the  field  of  the  mirror,  he  be- 
came uneasy.  General  Feraud  had  onlj'^  stepped 
a  little  out  of  the  line,  but  his  adversary  could 
not  possibly  have  supposed  him  walking  up  with 
perfect  unconcern.  General  D 'Hubert,  begin- 
ning to  wonder  where  the  other  had  dodged  to, 
was  come  upon  so  suddenly  that  the  first  warn- 
ing he  had  of  his  danger  consisted  in  the  long, 
early-morning  shadow  of  his  enemy  falling 
aslant  on  his  outstretched  legs.  He  had  not  even 
heard  a  footfall  on  the  soft  ground  between  the 
trees ! 

It  was  too  much  even  for  his  coolness.  He 
jumped  up  instinctively,  leaving  the  pistols  on 
the  ground.  The  irresistible  instinct  of  most  peo- 
ple   (unless  totally  paralysed  by  discomfiture) 

[  16^  J 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
would  have  been  to  stoop — exposing  themselves 
to  the  risk  of  being  shot  down  in  that  position. 
Instinct,  of  course,  is  irreflective.  It  is  its  very 
definition.  But  it  may  be  an  inquiry  worth 
pursuing,  whether  in  reflective  mankind  the  me- 
chanical promptings  of  instinct  are  not  affected 
by  the  customary  mode  of  thought.  Years  ago, 
in  his  young  days,  Armand  D 'Hubert,  the  re- 
flective promising  officer,  had  emitted  the  opin- 
ion that  in  warfare  one  should  "  never  cast 
back  on  the  lines  of  a  mistake."  This  idea  after- 
ward restated,  defended,  developed  in  many  dis- 
cussions, had  settled  into  one  of  the  stock  notions 
of  his  brain,  became  a  part  of  his  mental  in- 
dividuality. And  whether  it  had  gone  so  incon- 
ceivably deep  as  to  affect  the  dictates  of  his  in- 
stinct, or  simply  because,  as  he  himself  declared, 
he  was  "  too  scared  to  remember  the  confound- 
ed pistols,"  the  fact  is  that  General  D'Hubert 
never  attempted  to  stoop  for  them.  Instead  of 
going  back  on  his  mistake,  he  seized  the  rough 
trunk  with  both  hands  and  swung  himself  be- 
hind it  with  such  impetuosity  that  going  right 

[164] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
round  in  the  very  flash  and  report  of  a  pistol 
sliot,  he  reappeared  on  the  other  side  of  the  tree 
face  to  face  with  General  Feraud,  who,  com- 
pletely unstrung  by  such  a  show^  of  agility  on 
the  part  of  a  dead  man,  was  trembling  yet.  A 
very  faint  mist  of  smoke  hung  before  his  face 
which  had  an  extraordinary  aspect  as  if  the 
lower  jaw  had  come  unhinged. 

"  Not  missed!  "  he  croaked  hoarsely  from  the 
depths  of  a  dry  throat. 

This  sinister  sound  loosened  the  spell  which 
had  fallen  on  General  D 'Hubert's  senses. 

"  Yes,  missed — a  hoiit  portajit,"  he  heard  him- 
self saying  exultingly  almost  before  he  had  re- 
covered the  full  command  of  his  faculties.  The 
revulsion  of  feeling  was  accompanied  by  a  gust 
of  homicidal  fury  resuming  in  its  violence  the 
accumulated  resentment  of  a  lifetime.  For  years 
General  D'Hubert  had  been  exasperated  and 
humiliated  by  an  atrocious  absurdity  imposed 
upon  him  by  that  man's  savage  caprice.  Besides, 
General  D'Hubert  had  been  in  this  last  instance 
too  unwilling  to  confront  death  for  tlie  reaction 

[165] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
of  his  anguish  not  to  take  the  shape  of  a  desire 
to  kill. 

"  And  I  have  my  two  shots  to  fire  yet,"  he 
added  pitilessly. 

General  Feraud  snapped  his  teeth,  and  his 
face  assumed  an  irate,  undaunted  expression. 

"  Go  on,"  he  growled. 

These  would  have  been  his  last  words  on  earth 
if  General  D'Hubert  had  been  holding  the  pis- 
tols in  his  hand.  But  the  pistols  were  lying  on 
the  ground  at  the  foot  of  a  tall  pine.  General 
D'Hubert  had  the  second's  leisure  necessary  to 
remember  that  he  had  dreaded  death  not  as  a 
man  but  as  a  lover,  not  as  a  danger  but  as 
a  rival — not  as  a  foe  to  life  but  as  an  ob- 
stacle to  marriage.  And,  behold,  there  was  the 
rival  defeated!  Miserably  defeated — crushed — 
done  for ! 

He  picked  up  the  weapons  mechanically,  and 
instead  of  firing  them  into  General  Feraud's 
breast,  gave  expression  to  the  thought  upper- 
most in  his  mind. 

"  You  will  fight  no  more  duels  now." 

[166] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

His  tone  of  leisurely,  ineffable  satisfaction  was 
too  much  for  General  Feraud's  stoicism. 

"  Don't  dawdle  then,  damn  you  for  a  cold- 
blooded staff-coxcomb !  '*  he  roared  out  suddenly 
out  of  an  impassive  face  held  erect  on  a  rigid 
body. 

General  D 'Hubert  uncocked  the  pistols  care- 
fully. This  proceeding  was  observed  with  a  sort 
of  gloomy  astonishment  by  the  other  general. 

*'  You  missed  me  tT\ace,"  he  began  coolly, 
shifting  both  pistols  to  one  hand.  "  The  last  time 
within  a  foot  or  so.  By  everj'^  rule  of  single  com- 
bat your  life  belongs  to  me.  That  does  not  mean 
that  I  want  to  take  it  now." 

"  I  have  no  use  for  your  forbearance,"  mut- 
tered General  Feraud  savagely. 

"  Allow  me  to  point  out  that  this  is  no  concern 
of  mine,"  said  General  D 'Hubert,  whose  every 
word  was  dictated  by  a  consummate  delicacy  of 
feeling.  In  anger,  he  could  have  killed  that  man, 
but  in  cold  blood,  he  recoiled  from  humiliating 
this  unreasonable  being — a  fellow  soldier  of  the 
Grand  Armee,  his  companion  in  the  wonders  and 

[167] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

terrors  of  the  military  epic.  "  You  don't  set  up 
the  pretension  of  dictating  to  me  what  I  am  to 
do  with  what  is  my  own." 

General  Feraud  looked  startled.  And  the 
other  continued: 

"  You've  forced  me  on  a  point  of  honour  to 
keep  my  life  at  your  disposal,  as  it  were,  for  fif- 
teen years.  Very  well.  Now  that  the  matter  is  de- 
cided to  my  advantage,  I  am  going  to  do  what 
I  like  with  your  life  on  the  same  principle.  You 
shall  keep  it  at  my  disposal  as  long  as  I  choose. 
Neither  more  nor  less.  You  are  on  your  honour." 

"  I  am !  But  sacrebleu !  This  is  an  absurd  posi- 
tion for  a  general  of  the  empire  to  be  placed 
in,"  cried  General  Feraud,  in  the  accents  of  pro- 
found and  dismayed  conviction.  "  It  means  for 
me  to  be  sitting  all  the  rest  of  my  life  with  a 
loaded  pistol  in  a  drawer  waiting  for  your  word. 
It's  .  .  .  it's  idiotic.  I  shall  be  an  object  of  .  .  . 
of  .  .  .  derision." 

"Absurd?  .  .  .  Idiotic?  Do  you  think  so?" 
queried  argumentatively  General  D'Hubert  with 
sly   gravity.    *'  Perhaps.    But   I    don't   see   how 

[168] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

that  can  be  helped.  However,  I  am  not  hkely  to 
talk  at  large  of  this  adventure.  Nobody  need 
ever  know  anything  about  it.  Just  as  no  one  to 
this  day,  I  believe,  knows  the  origin  of  our  quar- 
rel. .  .  .  Not  a  word  more,"  he  added  hastily. 
"  I  can't  really  discuss  this  question  with  a  man 
who,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  does  not  exist." 

When  the  duellists  came  out  into  the  open, 
General  Feraud  walking  a  little  behind  and 
rather  with  the  air  of  walking  in  a  trance,  the 
two  seconds  hurried  towards  them  each  from  his 
station  at  the  edge  of  the  wood.  General  D'Hu- 
bert  addressed  them,  speaking  loud  and  dis- 
tinctly : 

"  Messieurs!  I  make  it  a  point  of  declaring  to 
you  solemnly  in  the  presence  of  General  Feraud 
that  our  difference  is  at  last  settled  for  good. 
You  may  inform  all  the  world  of  that  fact." 

"  A  reconciliation  after  all !  "  they  exclaimed 
together. 

"  Reconciliation?  Not  that  exactly.  It  is  some- 
thing much  more  binding.  Is  it  not  so,  general?  " 

General  Feraud  only  lowered  his  head  in  sign 

[169] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
of  assent.  The  two  veterans  looked  at  each  other. 
Later  in  the  day  when  they  found  themselves 
alone,  out  of  their  moody  friend's  earshot,  the 
cuirassier  remarked  suddenly : 

"  Generally  speaking,  I  can  see  with  my  one 
eye  as  far  or  even  a  little  farther  than  most  peo- 
ple. But  this  beats  me.  He  won't  say  anything." 

"  In  this  affair  of  honour  I  understand  there 
has  been  from  first  to  last  always  something  that 
no  one  in  the  army  could  quite  make  out,"  de- 
clared the  chasseur  with  the  imperfect  nose.  "  In 
mystery  it  began,  in  mystery  it  went  on,  and  in 
mystery  it  is  to  end  apparently.  .  .  ." 

General  D 'Hubert  walked  home  with  long, 
hasty  strides,  by  no  means  uplifted  by  a  sense 
of  triumph.  He  had  conquered,  but  it  did  not 
seem  to  him  he  had  gained  very  much  by  his 
conquest.  The  night  before  he  had  grudged  the 
risk  of  his  life  which  appeared  to  him  magnif- 
icent, worthy  of  preservation  as  an  opportunity 
to  win  a  girl's  love.  He  had  even  moments  when 
by  a  marvellous  illusion  this  love  seemed  to  him 
already  his  and  his  threatened  life  a  still  more 

[170] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
magnificent  opportunity  of  devotion.  Now  that 
his  life  was  safe  it  had  suddenly  lost  it  special 
magnificence.  It  w^ore  instead  a  specially  alarm- 
ing aspect  as  a  snare  for  the  exposure  of  un- 
worthiness.  As  to  the  marvellous  illusion  of  con- 
quered love  that  had  visited  him  for  a  moment 
in  the  agitated  watches  of  the  night  wliicli  might 
have  been  his  last  on  earth,  he  comprehended  now 
its  true  natiu'c.  It  had  been  merely  a  paroxysm 
of  delirious  conceit.  Thus  to  this  man  sobered  by 
the  victorious  issue  of  a  duel,  life  appeared  robbed 
of  much  of  its  charm  simply  because  it  w^as  no 
longer  menaced. 

Approaching  the  house  from  the  back 
through  the  orchard  and  the  kitchen  gardens, 
he  could  not  notice  the  agitation  which  reigned 
in  front.  He  never  met  a  single  soul.  Only  up- 
stairs, while  walking  softly  along  the  corridor, 
he  became  aware  that  the  house  was  awake  and 
much  more  noisy  than  usual.  Names  of  servants 
were  being  called  out  doM-n  below  in  a  confused 
noise  of  coming  and  going.  He  noticed  with  some 
concern  that  the  door  of  liis  own  room  stood  ajar, 

[171] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
though  the  shutters  had  not  been  opened  yet.  He 
had  hoped  tliat  his  early  excursion  would  have 
passed  unperceived.  He  expected  to  find  some 
servant  just  gone  in;  but  the  sunshine  filtering 
through  the  usual  cracks  enabled  him  to  see 
lying  on  the  low  divan  something  bulky  which 
had  the  appearance  of  two  women  clasped  in 
each  other's  arms.  Tearful  and  consolatory  mur- 
murs issued  mysteriously  from  that  appearance. 
General  D 'Hubert  pulled  open  the  nearest  pair 
of  shutters  violently.  One  of  the  women  then 
jumped  up.  It  was  his  sister.  She  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment with  her  hair  hanging  down  and  her  arms 
raised  straight  up  above  her  head,  and  then 
flung  herself  with  a  stifled  cry  into  his  arms. 
He  returned  her  embrace,  trying  at  the  same 
time  to  disengage  himself  from  it.  The  other 
woman  had  not  risen.  She  seemed,  on  the 
contrary,  to  cling  closer  to  the  divan,  hiding  her 
face  in  the  cushions.  Her  hair  was  also  loose;  it 
was  admirably  fair.  General  D'Hubert  recog- 
nised it  with  staggering  emotion.  Mile,  de  Val- 
massigue!  Adele!  In  distress! 

[172] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

lie  became  greatly  alarmed  and  got  rid  of  his 
sister's  hug  definitely.  Madame  Leonie  then  ex- 
tended her  shapely  bare  arm  out  of  her  peignoir, 
pointing  dramatically  at  the  divan: 

"  This  poor  terrified  child  has  rushed  here 
two  miles  from  home  on  foot — rimning  all  the 
way." 

"What  on  earth  has  happened?"  asked  Gen- 
eral D 'Hubert  in  a  low,  agitated  voice.  But 
Madame  Leonie  was  speaking  loudly. 

"  She  rang  the  great  bell  at  the  gate  and 
roused  all  the  household — we  were  all  asleep  yet. 
You  may  imagine  what  a  terrible  shock.  .  .  . 
Adele,  my  dear  child,  sit  up." 

General  D'lTubert's  expression  was  not  that 
of  a  man  who  imagines  with  facility.  He  did, 
however,  fish  out  of  chaos  the  notion  that  his 
prospective  mother-in-law  had  died  suddenly, 
but  only  to  dismiss  it  at  once.  He  could  not  con- 
ceive the  nature  of  the  event,  of  the  catastrophe 
which  could  induce  IMlle.  de  Valmassigue  living 
in  a  house  full  of  servants,  to  bring  the  news  over 
the  fields  herself,  two  miles,  running  all  the  way. 

[173] 


THE     POINT    OF    HONOR 

"But  why  are  you  in  this  room?"  he  whis- 
pered, full  of  awe. 

"  Of  course  I  ran  up  to  see  and  this  child  .  .  . 
I  did  not  notice  it — she  followed  me.  It's  that 
absurd  Chevalier,"  went  on  Madame  Leonie, 
looking  towards  the  divan.  ..."  Her  hair's 
come  down.  You  may  imagine  slie  did  not  stop  to 
call  her  maid  to  dress  it  before  she  started.  .  .  . 
Adele,  my  dear,  sit  up.  .  .  .  He  blui-ted  it 
all  out  to  her  at  half-past  four  in  the  morning. 
She  woke  up  early,  and  opened  her  shutters, 
to  breathe  the  fresh  air,  and  saw  him  sitting  col- 
lapsed on  a  garden  bench  at  the  end  of  the  great 
alley.  At  that  hour — you  may  imagine!  And  the 
evening  before  he  had  declared  himself  indis- 
posed. She  just  hurried  on  some  clothes  and  flew 
down  to  him.  One  would  be  anxious  for  less.  He 
loves  her,  but  not  very  intelligently.  He  had  been 
up  all  night,  fully  dressed,  the  poor  old  man, 
perfectly  exhausted!  He  wasn't  in  a  state  to  in- 
vent a  plausible  story.  .  .  .  What  a  confidant 
you  chose  there!  .  .  .  My  husband  was  furious! 
He  said :  '  We  can't  interfere  now.'  So  we  sat 

[174] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
down  to  wait.  It  was  awful.  And  this  poor  child 
running  over  here  publicly  with  lier  hair  loose. 
She  has  been  seen  by  people  in  the  fields.  She  has 
roused  the  whole  household,  too.  It's  awkward 
for  her.  Luckily  you  are  to  be  married  next  week. 
.  .  .  Adele,  sit  up.  He  has  come  home  on  his  own 
legs,  thank  God.  .  .  .  We  expected  you  to  come 
back  on  a  stretcher  perhaps — what  do  I  know? 
Go  and  see  if  the  carriage  is  ready.  I  must  take 
this  child  to  her  mother  at  once.  It  isn't  proper 
for  her  to  stay  here  a  minute  longer." 

General  D 'Hubert  did  not  move.  It  was  as 
though  he  had  heard  nothing.  JNIadame  Leonie 
changed  her  mind. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  to  it  myself,"  she  said.  "  I 
want  also  to  get  my  cloak  .  .  .  Adele  ..."  she 
began,  but  did  not  say  "  sit  up."  She  went  out 
saying  in  a  loud,  cheerful  tone:  "  I  leave  the  door 
open." 

General  D 'Hubert  made  a  movement  towards 
the  divan,  but  then  Adele  sat  up  and  that 
checked  him  dead.  He  thouglit,  "  I  haven't 
washed  tliis  morning.  I  must  look  like  an  old 

[175] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

tramp.  There's  earth  on  the  back  of  my  coat,  and 
pine  needles  in  my  hair."  It  occurred  to  him  that 
the  situation  required  a  good  deal  of  circumspec- 
tion on  his  part. 

*'  I  am  greatly  concerned,  mademoiselle,"  he 
began  timidly,  and  abandoned  that  hne.  She  was 
sitting  up  on  the  divan  with  her  cheeks  unusually 
pink,  and  her  hair  brilliantly  fair,  falling  all  over 
her  shoulders — which  was  a  very  novel  sight  to 
the  general.  He  walked  away  up  the  room 
and,  looking  out  of  the  window  for  safety, 
said:  "  I  fear  you  must  think  I  behaved  like  a 
madman,"  in  accents  of  sincere  despair.  .  .  . 
Then  he  spun  round  and  noticed  that  she  had 
followed  him  with  her  eyes.  They  were  not  cast 
down  on  meeting  his  glance.  And  the  expres- 
sion of  her  face  was  novel  to  him  also.  It  was,  one 
might  have  said,  reversed.  Her  eyes  looked  at 
him  with  grave  thought  fulness,  while  the  exquisite 
lines  of  her  mouth  seemed  to  suggest  a  restrained 
smile.  This  change  made  her  transcendental 
beauty  much  less  mysterious,  much  more  accessi- 
ble to  a  man's  comprehension.  An  amazing  ease 

[176] 


THE  POINT  OF  HONOR 
of  mind  came  to  the  general — and  even  some  ease 
of  manner.  He  walked  down  the  room  with  as 
much  pleasurable  excitement  as  he  would  have 
found  in  walking  up  to  a  battery  vomiting 
death,  fire,  and  smoke,  then  stood  looking  down 
with  smiling  eyes  at  the  girl  whose  marriage  with 
him  (next  week)  had  been  so  carefully  arranged 
by  the  wuse,  the  good,  the  admirable  Leonie. 

*'  All,  mademoiselle,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  court- 
ly deference.  "  If  I  could  be  certain  that  you  did 
not  come  here  tliis  morning  only  from  a  sense  of 
duty  to  your  mother!  " 

He  waited  for  an  answer,  imperturbable  but 
inwardly  elated.  It  came  in  a  demure  murnmr, 
eyelashes  lowered  with  fascinating  effect. 

"  You  mustn't  be  mechant  as  well  as  mad." 

And  then  General  D'Hubert  made  an  aggres- 
sive movement  towards  the  divan  which  nothing 
could  check.  This  piece  of  furniture  w^as  not  ex- 
actly in  the  line  of  the  open  door.  But  Madame 
Leonie,  coming  back  wrapped  up  in  a  light  cloak 
and  carrying  a  lace  shawl  on  her  arm  for  Adele  to 
hide  her  incriminating  hair  under,  had  a  vague 

[  177] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 

impression  of  her  brother  getting  up  from  his 
knees. 

"  Come  along,  my  dear  child,"  she  cried  from 
the  doorway. 

The  general,  now  himself  again  in  the  fullest 
sense,  showed  the  readiness  of  a  resourceful  cav- 
alry officer  and  the  peremptoriness  of  a  leader 
of  men. 

"  You  don't  expect  her  to  walk  to  the  car- 
riage," he  protested.  "  She  isn't  fit.  I  will  carry 
her  downstairs." 

This  he  did  slowly,  followed  by  his  awed  and 
respectful  sister.  But  he  rushed  back  like  a  whirl- 
wind to  wash  away  all  the  signs  of  the  night  of 
anguish  and  the  morning  of  war,  and  to  put  on 
the  festive  garments  of  a  conqueror  before  hurry- 
ing over  to  the  other  house.  Had  it  not  been  for 
that.  General  D'Hubert  felt  capable  of  mounting 
a  horse  and  pursuing  his  late  adversary  in  order 
simply  to  embrace  him  from  excess  of  happiness. 
"  I  owe  this  piece  of  luck  to  that  stupid  brute," 
he  thought.  "  This  duel  has  made  plain  in  one 
morning  what  might  have  taken  me  years  to  find 

[  178  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HOxNOR 
out — for  I  am  a  timid  fool.  No  self-confidence 
whatever.   Perfect  coward.   And   the   Chevalier! 
Dear  old  man !  "  General  D'Hubert  longed  to 
embrace  him,  too. 

The  Chevalier  was  in  bed.  For  several  days  he 
was  much  indisposed.  The  men  of  the  empire, 
and  the  post-revolution  young  ladies,  were  too 
mucli  for  him.  He  got  up  the  day  before  the  wed- 
ding, and  being  curious  by  nature,  took  his  niece 
aside  for  a  quiet  talk.  He  advised  her  to  find  out 
from  her  husband  the  tnie  story  of  the  affair  of 
honoiu",  whose  claim  so  imperative  and  so  persist- 
ent had  led  her  to  within  an  ace  of  tragedy.  "  It 
is  very  proper  that  his  wife  should  know.  And 
next  month  or  so  will  be  your  time  to  learn  from 
him  anything  you  ought  to  know,  my  dear 
child." 

Later  on  when  the  married  couple  came  on  a 
visit  to  the  mother  of  the  bride,  JNIadame  la  Gen- 
erate D 'Hubert  made  no  difficulty  in  communi- 
cating to  her  beloved  old  uncle  what  she  had 
learned  without  any  difficulty  from  her  husband. 
The  Chevalier  listened  with  profound  attention 

[179] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
to  the  end,  then  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  shook  the 
grains  of  tobacco  off  the  frilled  front  of  his  shirt, 
and  said  calmly:  "  And  that's  all  what  it  was." 

"  Yes,  uncle,"  said  Madame  la  Generale, 
opening  her  pretty  eyes  very  wide.  "  Isn't  it 
funny?  C'est  insense — to  think  what  men  are 
capable  of." 

"  H'm,"  commented  the  old  einigre.  "  It  de- 
pends what  sort  of  men.  That  Bonaparte's  sol- 
diers were  savages.  As  a  wife,  my  dear,  it  is 
proper  for  you  to  believe  implicitly  what  your 
husband  says." 

But  to  Leonie's  husband  the  Chevalier  confided 
his  true  opinion.  "  If  that's  the  tale  the  fellow 
made  up  for  his  wife,  and  during  the  honeymoon, 
too,  you  may  depend  on  it  no  one  will  ever  know 
the  secret  of  this  affair." 

Considerably  later  still,  General  D' Hubert 
judged  the  time  come,  and  the  opportunity  pro- 
pitious to  write  a  conciliatory  letter  to  General 
Feraud.  "  I  have  never,"  protested  the  General 
Baron  D'Hubert,  "  wished  for  your  death  dur- 
ing all  the  time  of  our  deplorable  quarrel.  Allow 

[  180  ] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
me  to  give  you  back  in  all  form  your  forfeited 
life.  We  two,  who  have  been  partners  in  so  much 
military  glory,  should  be  friendly  to  each  other 
publicly." 

The  same  letter  contained  also  an  item  of  do- 
mestic information.  It  w^as  alluding  to  this  last 
that  General  Feraud  answered  from  a  little  vil- 
lage on  the  banks  of  the  Garonne: 

"If  one  of  yom-  boy's  names  had  been  Napo- 
leon, or  Joseph,  or  even  Joachim,  I  could  con- 
gratulate you  with  a  better  heart.  As  you  have 
thought  proper  to  name  him  Charles  Henri  Ar- 
mand  I  am  confirmed  in  my  conviction  that  you 
never  loved  the  emperor.  The  thought  of  that 
sublime  hero  chained  to  a  rock  in  the  middle  of  a 
savage  ocean  makes  life  of  so  little  value  that  I 
would  receive  with  positive  joy  your  instructions 
to  blow  my  brains  out.  From  suicide  I  consider 
myself  in  honour  debarred.  But  I  keep  a  loaded 
pistol  in  my  drawer." 

JNIadame  la  Generale  D'Hubert  lifted  up  her 
hands  in  horror  after  perusing  that  letter. 

"You  see?  He  won't  be  reconciled,"  said  her 

[181] 


THE    POINT    OF    HONOR 
husband.  "  We  must  take  care  that  he  never,  by 
any  chance,  learns  where  the  money  he  hves  on 
comes  from.  It  would  be  simply  appalling." 

"  You  are  a  brave  homme,  Armand,"  said 
Madame  la  Generale  appreciatively. 

"  My  dear,  I  had  the  right  to  blow  his  brains 
out — strictly  speaking.  But  as  I  did  not  we  can't 
let  him  starve.  He  has  been  deprived  of  his  pen- 
sion for  '  breach  of  military  discipline  '  when  he 
broke  bounds  to  fight  his  last  duel  with  me.  He's 
crippled  with  rheumatism.  We  are  bound  to  take 
care  of  him  to  the  end  of  his  days.  And,  after  all, 
I  am  indebted  to  him  for  the  radiant  discovery 
that  you  loved  me  a  little — you  sly  person.  Ha! 
Ha!  Two  miles,  nmning  all  the  way!  ...  It  is 
extraordinary  how  all  through  this  affair  that 
man  has  managed  to  engage  my  deeper  feelings." 


THE   END 


[  182] 


APR  '^  0  1980 

"'tJATE  DUE 

1 

CAYLORD 

PRINTCO  IN  U.S   A. 

PR6005    057 P6x     1908 
Conrad,    Joseph,     1857-1924. 
The   point   of   honor    « 


AA    000  601  4^8   '7 


